


Magnus Discovers the Internet- PG13 EDITION

by commoner64



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 90,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commoner64/pseuds/commoner64
Summary: By popular request, I have made a rated T version of Magnus Discovers the Internet. The chapters will come out slower than on the uncensored version of my fic, due to the need to censor.
Relationships: Emperor of Mankind/Erda (WH40k), Roboute Guilliman/Yvraine (WH40K)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Genesis

It was the morning of Magnus’s birthday. He was turning 10 thousand something. Not that he really cared, or kept track. When he walked into the dining hall of Tzeentch’s palace to get some cereal, he immediately realized it was dark. “Huh, that’s odd”, the primarch said as he flipped the lightswitch. 

“Surprise!” As soon as the lights turned on, hundreds of Thousand Sons and daemons jumped out from the darkness. But like, not like a hundred thousand sons, like, several hundred Thousand Sons.

“Oh, a surprise party?” Magnus would’ve raised an eyebrow if he fucking had any. “Special occasion perhaps? Don’t think I’ve ever had a birthday party of this magnitude before.” 

“That’s because I have a very special birthday present for you this year!” Tzeentch snickered, suddenly appearing out of thin air, holding a box. “Here, open it.” 

“I swear to chaos, if this is another prank…” Magnus opened the box, inside were a few dark, glassy pieces of magic quartz. “You got me… Martian currency?”

“Yes… Hehe.” Tzeentch tznickered, “A little bird told me you needed some new parts for your drone, kiddo.” 

Magnus was suddenly embarrassed. “You… Know about my drone?”

“Well of course I know about all your stupid hobbies! I am the Architect of Fate after all. Go on, now. You have money to fix your drone. Take a little trip to Mars, you’ve been such a good little prince.” 

“Umm… Okay.” Magnus could tell something was amiss. Every one of Tzeentch’s actions had an ulterior motive, and he couldn’t see why this would be an exception. “Yeah sure, thanks, Tzeentch. I’ll be sure to find some uh- parts for my drone.”

“Yes, yes! Go to Mars, oh you’ll have so much fun! It’ll be such an adventure!” 

“Yeah, alright, I’ll go grab my stuff and-” Before Magnus could even finish his sentence, Tzeentch created a warp portal and somehow, the red Primarch tripped into it. Fate was a bitch. And Magnus was fate’s bottom bitch. He fell out the other side of the portal and onto a pile of rocks. “OW FUCK!” Magnus rubbed his head and looked around. He landed right next to a marketplace on Mars. There were cyborg cultists everywhere, buying and selling various goods. “Well, I guess I might as well get what I need while I’m here.” But first: he needed to hide his true identity, lest the Martians freak out over a 10 foot tall daemonic Primarch. So he used his shapeshifting powers to transform himself into a regular-looking human. Perfect. He went over to the drone parts stand, but the owner wasn’t there. “Oh well, I need to stock up on other Martian goods anyways. And it’s always good to explore foreign places.” Magnus mused to himself. After looking around at the various Martian goods, he came across a familiar stand. The shopkeeper was hunched under the counter, fixing some sort of strange device, so Magnus decided to get his attention. “Excuse me, sir. Do you have any uhh… ‘nuln oil’ in stock?”

The mechanicus stood up and quickly looked up at Magnus. “Beep boop, ya mean Flex Tape?”

“Yeah… That.” The primarch groaned. 

The merchant reached under the stand and put a bottle of nuln oil on the counter. “That’ll be 3 dark crystals please.” 

Magnus took some crystals out of his pocket and set them down on the counter. “For the future, do you know of any more discreet ways to order this shit? It’s not a good look for a primarch to be buying Flex Tape in public.” 

The merchant put the crystals in his pocket and gestured for Magnus to come in closer. He did. “Okay, there’s this new thing on Mars called the ‘internet’.” 

“Internet?” Magnus whispered. 

“Yeah, it’s really old Terran technology that we rediscovered. It’s a complex cogitator network that can be used to share messages, pict-captures, and can even be used for shopping. Best of all, there’s no AI involved, so it’s technically legal. It can’t connect to cogitators on other planets though.”

“Oh neat. What do you use it for?”

“Porn.” 

_ “Of course they do.” _ Magnus thought to himself. But porn was porn, and he was sick of jerking it to Play Daemon Magazine and erotic novels for the past ten millenia. “Listen, is there anywhere I can uh- Check out this ‘internet’? 

The Mechanicus merchant took a small metal rectangle out of his pocket. “Here. It’s called a ‘smartphone’. It has a touchscreen.” 

“Huh. Alright then.” Magnus clicked on one of the squares titled “photo album”. Magnus’s asshole quivered in anticipation at what he might see. Then the gallery loaded. It was just pictures of toasters. “Sir, these are just pict-captures of toasters.” 

“The hottest babes on Mars.” He wiggled his eyebrows and took the phone back. 

Magnus suddenly came up with an idea: if people from other planets had this “internet”, then they could share some actual fucking good porn on it. But how exactly did this internet thing work? “Hey, I’m actually considering getting some of that internet for my home planet. Who do I talk to. Is there like, a CEO of the internet or something?”

“Belisarius Cawl?” 

“Yeah. Is he in his temple or whatever? Do I have to schedule some sort of appointment?” Magnus asked. 

“You’d need some sort of clearance, not to mention connections. The internet is still kind of an underground thing.” 

“Ah, underground. Thanks.” Magnus shapeshifted into a bird and flew off, a great idea brewing in his head.

“SIR! You forgot your flex tape! Aaaaand he’s gone.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, no, no! That’s not what I meant at all!” Shouted Cawl at their servo-skull. 

“But the Fabricator-General instructed the Skiitari to kill Paul, and maul Saul. Then call Cawl, then uninstall the protocall.” 

“No! He said to maul Paul, then uninstall the protocall from Cawl, then call Saul.” 

Another servo-skull chimed in. “I think you both misheard. He said to kill Saul at the mall, then install the protocol. Then call Cawl about the Fall Brawl.” 

The room erupted into a sea of shouting. 

Then suddenly, a space gopher fell from the ceiling. And that space gopher was actually Magnus. Luckily, nobody saw his blunder due to everyone else in the room being involved in a shouting match. Magnus used the opportunity to quickly shapeshift back into a human, and dust himself off. “Excuse me!”

Everyone turned their attention to Magnus. 

Belisarus scolded their servo-skulls. “Neither of you told me I had an appointment.” 

“Well, you have three other people inside of you, can’t you get them to track your appointments?” One of the skulls said. 

“Three people inside them? Beats my record from when I was alive.” Another skull chuckled robotically. 

“I really regret letting you two keep your brains.” Cawl turned back to face Magnus. “Sorry about that. What are you here for again?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could get some internet for my home planet.” 

Cawl nodded. “And who happened to inform you about this alleged “internet”?”

“That one guy with a toaster fetish?”

“Not specific enough.” The centipede person replied. 

“That one guy who sells nuln oil at the southeast market?”

Cawl chuckled. “Oh, you mean Paul, the tape salesman.” 

“Yes. Paul sent me.”

“Well in that case, take the book,  _ Magnus _ .” 

The primarch’s eye widened in shock. “How did you-” 

“I had a vision from the Omnissiah of your coming last night.” They dropped a book in front of Magnus. “This book should contain everything you need to know.” 

“Alright. Thanks, Cawl.” This whole thing was suspicious. First Tzeentch’s insistence on a trip to Mars, and now suddenly Belisarus Cawl is having holy visions? This had to be the work of the Architect of Fate, but this all seemed a little more convenient than what he was used to. Was there some other force behind this? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A while later, Magnus had finally returned home. Cawl’s strange tome safely nestled in the special chains on his robe. He had read a little bit of it already, but it seemed to advanced and out of his level of expertise. He didn’t want to have to learn 5 different programming languages just to do all this. Luckily, he didn’t need to. He had allies who could easily handle this. 

After getting back to the palace, Magnus went to the kitchen to grab a snack. 

“Ahhhh, there you are. I was wondering when you’d get back.” Tzeentch mused in his usual creepy voice. 

Magnus turned his head over to see some Dark Mechanicus tech priests working on something. It was the fucking fridge. 

“Alright, my dark lord. I have found the problem.” One of the tech priests said as he picked up the plug for the fridge. “The fridge was unplugged.” 

“Oh thank you. I was wondering why all the popsicles melted. EHEHEHEHE.” Tzeentch then vanished. 

“Excuse me.” Magnus said to the tech priests. 

“Yes, Lord Magnus?” One of them piped up. 

Magnus took Cawl’s book off his book chain and handed it to the priests. “Would it be possible for you to install this in the Webway to create a galaxy-wide communication network?”

The priest flipped through the tome curiously, processing the information with quick precision. “Yeah. I think so. If we all combine our efforts, it should only take a week.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten days later, the internet had finally arrived. It was glorious. All the information he ever wanted right at his fingertips. There were online encyclopedias of everything imaginable, social media websites where people posted whatever the hell they wanted, and porn websites, with the most disgusting heretic shit imaginable. It was the greatest thing he had ever helped make. Which wasn’t much, considering that pretty much everything he made had turned out to be a giant shithead. Months passed by, and the community of anonymous strangers behind cogitators flourished. Finally, something good in the world. 

And one night, Magnus fell asleep. And he began to drift off into the land of drea-

“MAGNUS! WHY DID YOU FUCK UP THE WEBWAY AGAIN!?”

Oh shit. 

  
  
  



	2. Magnus Fucks up

Thousands of years ago, mankind had finally started to flourish. With the newfound invention of agriculture, came civilization. And with civilization came a need for powerful warlords. One of those warlords was a woman named Erda. And Erda was a good friend of Neoth, who would later be known as The Emperor of Mankind. The two happened to share a house together. And they were roommates. Oh my god they were roommates. 

“Damn, what a day.” Neoth mumbled as he stepped inside alongside Erda, hanging up his sword on the coat hook, which was totally a thing in Ancient Mesopotamia. 

Erda did the same. “Hey, at least we get a whole week off.” 

“Yeah.” Neoth stretched out and lied down on the couch. Erda flopped on top of him, and rested her head on his chest. Neoth smiled and ran his fingers through Erda’s long hair. It was nice to have a friend who was immortal like he was. He saw visions of mankind’s future flash through his mind, and wondered if Erda would be there. He sure hoped so. “Hey, this is a weird idea, but why don’t we go on vacation?”

“Vacation? We live out in the middle of the desert, Neoth. It would take weeks to find someplace much different than here.” 

“Hmm. Good point. Wanna explore then? There’s not much to do here besides play war strategy games. And those won’t get good for another few millennia.” 

“Sure. We can do that tomorrow.” Erda closed her eyes and smiled.

“Pogchamp.” 

The warlord opened her eyes again. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh. You’ll see in like, 6,000 years.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

The next day, the two friends set off in search of something to do. But Neoth’s map had blown away an hour into their journey, and now they were completely lost. In the middle of nowhere. Hours from civilization. 

“Great, we’re lost.” Erda mumbled. 

“Don’t worry. Once night falls, we can just follow the North Star home. That always worked for me in the days before maps were invented.” 

Erda shrugged. “Yeah. Me too I guess.” 

Neoth squinted. “By the way, do you happen to see an oasis?”  
“A what?” Erda looked around. Sure enough, there was an oasis nearby. The largest she had ever been. And it definitely wasn’t a mirage. “Huh. Maybe we can take an actual vacation after all.” 

The two walked into the oasis. It was massive. A huge jungle filled with creatures neither had ever seen before. 

“Oh wow, it’s humid here.” Neoth looked around. “Wanna get naked?”

“Hell yeah.” 

And so the two took off their clothes and neatly folded them behind a tree. They spent hours swimming, eating the delicious fruit that grew on nearly every tree and vine, and even naming the strange undiscovered creatures. 

Neoth pointed at a giraffe. “Okay, I call that one, long horse.”   
Erda laughed and pointed at a sea lion. “That thing is called a wet dog!”

Suddenly, a strange voice boomed throughout the jungle. But the creatures seemed not to be frightened. It must’ve been telepathy. Was there another psyker nearby?

“I see you have found my garden.” The voice said. 

“Yeah. Is this your’s?” Neoth asked, suspicious. 

“Yes. And it is your’s as well. For I am your creator. I am the creator of all of mankind.” 

“Oh cool. Nice place you got.” Neoth seemed to believe it. Although something wasn’t quite right. 

“It is indeed cool. Pretty fucking poggers if you ask me. Okay, I’m off to create more weird fuckin animals. Peace.” Then the psychic transmission ended. 

“Huh. That was weird.” Neoth shrugged it off. “Hey, wanna make out?”

“Yeah. Sure.” 

The next day, the two had woken up early and were getting breakfast. Erda pointed to a tree with bright red fruit. “Hey Neoth, whats this?”

“That’s called an apple. Never seen one in person before.” He picked the much shorter woman up and placed her on his shoulders so she could pick one.

Suddenly, a familiar psychic energy transmitted something to their minds. “Hey, hey! Don’t touch that!”

Neoth raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because that apple is filled with knowledge of things mankind isn’t supposed to know! It's my super secret psyker apple project!” The strange voice scolded. 

“For your information, I already know a lot of things. You’re late to the party.” Neoth scoffed. 

Erda said nothing and plucked an apple from the tree. 

“NONONONONONO DON’T EAT THAT APPLE OR SO HELP ME!”

Erda took a bite, and then swallowed. “Huh. Neoth have a bite.” She handed the apple to him. 

Neoth took the apple and ate the entire fucking thing in one bite. “Wait a minute…” He parted the thick leaves from the tree. Inside the tree sat a fat frog lizard man. “You’re an Old One!”

The fat frogman became enraged. “I KNEW IT! I KNEW MANKIND WOULD GIVE INTO TEMPTATION! YOU FUCKERS ARE THE WORST, AND YOUR HUBRIS WILL BE YOUR DEMISE!”

“Okay.” Neoth shrugged. 

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Neoth set Erda down and began to walk off.

“AND ALSO, PUT YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES ON!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“MAGNUS! WHY DID YOU FUCK UP THE WEBWAY AGAIN!?”

Magnus just stared at the spirit in front of him. It was definitely The Emperor’s. Or at least- fragments of it. It was like his own soul, scattered around The Warp, lost and shattered. 

“I’m angry, but. At the same time, your curiosity and passion is that of my own. I can’t blame you.” 

That was probably the most sincere thing Magnus had ever heard from his father. It was almost, touching in a way. But at the same time, he had low expectations for The Emperor. “I’m sorry, father. Is everything okay?” Magnus on the other hand, was not very sincere in his words. He had spent centuries trying to get in his father’s good graces. Only to have his hopes dashed again and again. The Emperor had not been a good father to him. Or any of his brothers, save for Horus. Why would he return the favor by being a good son?

“Listen to me, Magnus. I have been a bad fathe-”

The demon prince suddenly burst into laughter. “Oh really now?! YOU, a bad father? This is just rich! Do go on!”

“I should’ve told you about the Webway Project. I should’ve listened to you when you warned me about Horus. I was wrong. And I am sorry for that.” 

“Well it’s too bloody late for that, isn’t it? Your apology is, oh I dunno- ten millenia too late!”

“You’re right. If I could’ve gone back in time and been a better father to you, I would have. But all I can do now is make it up to you.” 

Magnus frowned. “Well you’re too late anyways. My allegiance is to Tzeentch.”

“By obligation only.” 

“Oh, similar to how I only felt obligated to act like your son because you’re my biological father? You know, I had a pretty good life before you showed up. I had an adoptive family who loved me and showed me their ways. Then you just show up one day claiming to be my big psychic daddy.”

“But you were eager to talk to me when I finally found you. In fact, we’d have long talks years before I even met you in person. I spent decades searching for you, Magnus. And if you and all your other brothers had not been scattered across the galaxy, I would’ve raised you all with care and equal attention.” 

“I have a hard time believing that.” 

“Was it not you who used all your psychic might to break past my barrier so you could warn me? Was it not you who tried to redeem Horus and shatter his delusions?”

Magnus crossed his arms. “I did that for my own benefit. It had nothing to do with love or brotherhood, or whatever the hell you’re trying to imply.” He shook his head. “If you want my help, you’re gonna have to tell me what’s in it for me.” 

The spirit fragment sighed. “You will have more power than you ever would by being a prince of Tzeentch. Not to mention, you and you alone will have control of your own destiny. No contracts, no soul stealing bullshit.” 

“Yes, go on.” 

“And by helping me, you will make Tzeentch feel like a total dumbass.” 

“Deal.” That was all Magnus needed. His freedom, and the humiliation of his master. 

“Okay. So here’s what’s going on right now. As you know, my body is shutting down and I’m going into what is called “senescence”. I’m barely holding on as it is, and now your whole internet thing has accelerated that process since my soul is hardly anchored to my body due to the strain. If I die, it will create a massive black hole and cause a war between the Imperium and Chaos. 

“Yes, and?”

“Tzeentch will become so powerful, that you will be his bitch for the rest of eternity.” 

Magnus didn’t realize that until now. “Shit.” 

“I need you to gather your remaining brothers so you can kill me, and then sit on the Golden Throne for a month while my soul regenerates.” 

The half-daemon pondered for a moment. “Okay, quick question though. I’ve wondered about this for quite a while now.” 

“Okay.” 

“So, how do you expect me to shit when I’m on the Golden Throne? Am I supposed to cast some sort of spell, or is it also a toilet, or what?”

“Magnus, what the fuc-” The Emperor’s spirit fragment sighed. “No. Remember that one thing JK Rowling said about toilets at Hogwarts?”

Magnus shook his head. “No. I never read any of her books because the second Primarch told me she’s a monster.” 

“Oh yeah, that one scandal in 2025- uh.”

“Okay, forget I ever asked that question! Why aren’t you going to your favorite son, Gulliman for this!?”  
“Correction: favorite living son. And the reason I’m asking you this favor is because Gulliman is far too busy for this task. Plus, he could never get the Chaos Brothers on his side.” 

“Alright, father. I will aid you in your endeavors. But mark my words: break your promise and there will be hell to pay.” 

“Then it’s settled. I will be seeing you again soon, Magnus.” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

And then he woke up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Magnus poured himself a bowl of Chaos O’s, he wondered which Primarch he would go to first. Gulliman was out of the question, as they were mortal enemies. The Second Primarch was Chaos knows where, he would be hard to convince as well. And as for the Chaos Primarchs, it would be too risky to convince them right away. Of course, plenty of his other brothers were still alive. But who in their right mind would be crazy enough to join him? “Of course.” He thought to himself. 

Leman Russ.


	3. BAR FIGHT!

And so, Magnus made it to Fenris. Once again, shapeshifted into the form of a regular human, in a very thick winter coat. And now, he was leaning against the counter at a pub, conversing with the locals in hopes of clues about Leman’s whereabouts. Strangely, all of them happened to be soldiers.

In the back corner of that pub, sat an Astra Militarum captain and her company. That captain was a tall Fenrisian woman, her uniform adorned with furs from the various beasts she had slain during her many campaigns. Certainly a well-decorated soldier by Fenrisian standards. As she loudly cheered and drank with her company, she noticed the lone psyker of the group was acting far more aloof than usual.

“And here’s to another toast for uh- being alive I guess?” She kept eyeing him now and again, concerned that something might be amiss. “Hey, I have to piss, I’ll be right back.” She went over to the end of the counter, where her psyker was sitting. Staring at a group of people, while occasionally taking a sip from his stein. The captain sat next to him, and looked at the psyker with concern in her icy-blue orbs eyes. “Primaris Beowulf, what seems to be the matter?”

“That tall man in the thick fur coat.” He took a sip from his stein. “I know him.” 

The captain turned her head and sized up the man, not noticing anything too out of the ordinary with him. 

“That’s Magnus the Red.” 

“What?” The captain would’ve spit out her drink if she had one. “You can’t be serious.” 

The psyker’s steel-cold gaze held no secrets. “Aye, but I am. I saw him once back when I had to assist the Ultramarines you seem to love so much. There’s no mistake. That’s Magnus the Red. I can tell by the aura he gives off.” 

“Well. I do know he can shapeshift.” She stared at the man, and now that she knew who he was, the style choices made no sense. That coat was way too thick. It was Summer for thunderwolves sakes, who the hell needs a coat that thick? She shook her head and sighed. “Command them all to shoot. I can’t risk having a potential traitor leave my grasp unschathed.” Beowulf nodded in agreement, and sent out telepathic instructions to all the soldiers in the pub. 

Magnus looked around in confusion as the soldiers stopped talking to him. He nearly jumped as two of them grabbed him by either side and held him in place. Then in the blink of the eye, everyone in the pub started firing at him.

“AGHH! WHAT THE FUCK!?” The force of the concentrated gunfire at his chest caused him to slip out of the Astra soldier’s grip and fall back over the counter, causing bottles of alcohol to shatter all over him. Once the gunfire stopped, he sat up and poked his head out from behind the counter. “You bloody wankers! What the hell was that for!?”

The captain panicked when she saw the aftermath of the gunfire. Not a scratch on the man, this might’ve been a bad idea. 

A powerful psyker walked up to Magnus. “You’re Magnus the Red, are you not?”

Magnus sighed and shapeshifted back into his original form. “Alright, you got me.” 

Beowulf seemed unfazed. “Tell me, Magnus, why are you here. And more importantly, why haven’t you killed us all yet?”

“He was asking us about the whereabouts of Leman Russ”, one of the soldiers commented. 

The Astra captain suddenly spoke out. “And why do you need to know?”

“This might sound crazy but…” Magnus continued. “As much as I despise Leman, I need him to save Father.” 

There were scattered murmurs around the pub. “The Emperor?”

The captain looked over to her psyker. “Is he telling the truth?”

“Aye, Captain Lupa.” Beowulf replied with a nod. “I can sense no dishonesty, nor ulterior motives in his aura. He seems genuine.” 

Lupa’s eyes met Magnus’s with a skeptical glare. “But what’s in it for you? I thought you worked for Tzeentch?”

“I do. But if Chaos wins, there’d be no chance of me ever slipping out of his tight and all-consuming grip.” 

Beowulf nodded. “Once again, he’s being genuine in his words.”

“Very well. I’ll form a temporary alliance with you. But only because I’d do anything to bring Uncle Leman back home.” 

Magnus stood up. “Uncle?”

“I’m half- Space Wolf”, Lupa announced proudly. 

“I can see the family resemblance.” The half-daemon replied, getting a closer look at her wolf-like features. 

“It’s settled, Magnus. My company and I will follow you into the Eye of Terror!” 

Magnus seemed surprised as the other Astras cheered and clank their steins together in celebration. 

Lupa had one more thing to say. “Oh but before we go, let’s rendezvous with my boyfriend. I’m sure his presence will be very beneficial to our cause.” 

“Boyfriend…?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hmm… Go on a random crusade through the Eye of Terror with a traitor Primarch in order to find Leman Russ, who may or may not still be alive... I, Cato Sicarius will effortlessly and valiantly take on this difficult task! Because I, Cato Sicarius care deeply about the missing Primarchs!”

“Are you fucking serious right now? Her boyfriend is Cato Fucking Sicarius?” Magnus thought to himself, letting an exasperated sigh out of the corner of his mouth. The daemon prince piped up. “Oh, but you should probably tell your chapter master where you’re going. He might need you.” Magnus mentally had his fingers crossed that Cato wouldn’t be allowed to go. He hated that little prick. 

“Of course! I’ll report to Calgar right away. One second please.” Cato left the room. 

Lupa smirked and elbowed Magnus. “Isn’t he handsome?” 

“Nope.” The Primarch replied rather bluntly. 

“Aww, you’re just jealous.” The captain laughed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cato walked into Calgar’s war room. “Greetings, Chapter Master! I, Cato Sicarius have just been requested to go on a very daring journey into the Eye of Terror. And I, Cato Sicarius, would like to request permission to take my company with me. Because I, Cato Sicarius shall emerge from the Warp alongside our missing Primarch, Leman Russ.” 

Calgar took a moment to process whatever the fuck just came out of Captain Sicarius’s mouth. “Actually, Cato. That sounds like a walk in the park for someone like you. I bet you could do it alone. Bringing your company with you seems quite excessive, don’t you think?”

“Oh Chapter Master. You flatter I, Cato Sicarius.” He, Cato Sicarius said. “Very well then. I, Cato Sicarius, shall go into The Warp alone with nothing but the traitor Primarch, Magnus, and my Astra Militarum girlfriend’s company! I, Cato Sicarius, shall see you on the other side!” And in a flash, he was gone.

Calgar spaced out for a moment. “WHAT THEEEEEEEEEEE FUCK!?” He sighed and took a moment to collect his thoughts. Hopefully, Cato would get killed from his own stupidity. But Calgar had the same thought many times about many missions. And yet that little asshole, Cato Sicarius, made it out unschathed every time. But surely this would be an exception, right? 

“Hey, Alex”, Calgar called out to a nearby servo-skull. “Tell Gulliman about the little discussion Cato and I had.”   
The servo-skull shook twice, as if he was nodding. “Sure thing, Chapter Master.” 

And as his servo-skull flew away to tell the news, Calgar looked out the window and saw a small Astra Militarum ship fly off into the horizon. What the hell was going on?


	4. The Warp

It had been a few hours since the ship made it into The Warp, and Magnus was already sick of everyone’s shit. While he and Beowulf were busy piloting the ship, the rest of the crew was nearby, talking their ear off. 

“And so I said to Calgar: ‘well, it's not like everyone died, we still have a third of our soldiers left.”” Cato said in his usual falsetto. 

The Astras laughed. Lupa piped up. “Ooh Cato! That reminds me of that one time an anvil fell on your head.” 

Cato chuckled. “Yeah, Calgar said it was a prank. So I, Cato Sicarius pranked him back by throwing a grand piano at him! He was in the hospital for a whole week after that one!”

  
“Are they always like this?” Magnus whispered to Beowulf. 

“They’re fine to be around. Cato just brings out… Unpleasant traits in people.” The Primaris whispered back. 

“Tell me about it. No wonder Calgar is always on edge.” 

Beowulf frowned. “Or, maybe you just think that because the only time you’ve ever seen Calgar is when you were bombarding his men with daemons.” 

“Also true.” 

The ship was silent for a few minutes. Too quiet. Suspiciously quiet. Suddenly, Magnus heard giggling behind him. He got up and looked behind his seat. 

Sure enough, Cato and Lupa were… Frenching the fuck out of eachother 

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS?!” Magnus shouted. “Are you two socially inept?!”

“Yes.” Cato replied. “Are you not aware that Space Marines are specifically designed to have a limited range of social skills and interests?”

“I WAS BEING RHETORICAL!” Magnus took a deep breath. “If you’re going to do that, get a room or something.” 

“There’s only one room on this ship, sir.” Lupa replied matter-of-factly. “And besides, you’re just jealous because you don’t have a girlfriend.”

Magnus was even redder than usual. “IM FUCKING GAY, YOU FURRY FUCK!”

Cato scoffed. “Don’t out yourself like that, Magnus. If people know you’re gay, no girl will ever want to hook up with you ever again.” 

Magnus sat back down and put his hands back on the ship’s controls and sighed heavily. He noticed his co-pilot was looking down at the floor, red in the face. “Beowulf, what are you blushing at?”

The psyker cleared his throat and regained his composure. “Nothing, sir.” 

At this point, Magnus was too scared to probe into anyone’s mind. 

“Oh and by the way, it appears we are almost out of fuel.” Beowulf said in his usual quiet tone. 

The daemon prince looked at the fuel gauge. “Shit, you’re right. We better find a gas station… In the middle of nowhere.” 

“Oops! I guess I forgot to refuel the ship again!” Lupa said, still behind the seat. “Oooh Cato, your lips taste like dry biscuits.” 

Magnus sighed heavily and slumped over. “Beowulf, could you find a gas station please.” 

“Aye, sir. Already on it.” He pulled out his smartphone. “There’s one about three light years away from here. We should have just enough fuel to get there.” 

“Perfect.” Magnus turned around, and a few minutes later, the ship landed at a space gas station. 

Lupa popped up behind Magnus. “Oooh Magnus, can we go inside to get snacks?”

“I dunno, can you?” The Primarch asked in a snarky tone like a teacher or some shit. 

“We can’t without your permission, Magnus.” Cato responded. He pulled out a copy of the Astartes Codex. “It says right here that if a ship lands at a gas station, if there is someone in the ship a rank above you, you must get permission from them to get snacks.” 

“Give me that!” Magnus swiped the codex out of Cato’s hand and ripped it in half like one of those guys at a school anti-drug assembly who rips a phonebook in half to look cool. “Now go. And don’t take too long!” 

“Woohoo!” Everyone in the ship but the two pilots ran out the door and into the gas station. 

Magnus got up. “Now to refuel the ship and get more than thirty seconds of peace and quiet.” 

Beowulf smirked. “That’s rare.” He followed Magnus. The two went over to the gas pump to pump some fuel into the ship. There was silence for a while, until Beowulf opened his mouth once again. “Sir...” 

“You can call me Magnus, you know.” The Primarch had garnered enough respect for Beowulf to not care about such trivial things as titles anymore.

“Right, Magnus… I was just thinking- What was Prospero like?” 

Magnus was silent for a moment, it had been a while since he talked about his home planet. Thinking about it brought along some powerful emotions. “It was a beautiful world. There were so many people from all corners of the galaxy, each with their own unique story and perspectives. So many people who were lost and hurt coming together to heal and build something wonderful.” His eye shifted to the ground. “I’m sorry if you wanted to go.” 

The psyker smirked through the pain. “Fenris is my home anyways. It's just hard, you know? When people find out that I’m a psyker, they stay away from me out of fear, you get that, right?”

“Yeah…” Magnus looked up to see Beowulf looking bashfully at him. Were they both- into each other? Of course this wasn’t the first time Magnus did some really gay shit at a gas station in space, but it was always in the bathrooms. They both stared at each other for a while. 

“OH MY THRONE WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SHIP!?” Cato shouted as he came out of the Space Kum-n-go, holding what appeared to be a watermelon that he was eating like an apple. 

“Wait, wh-” Magnus turned around to see that while he was having gay thoughts, the entire outside of the ship had been stripped off for scrap metal. Whoever did it got away though. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?” He groaned. 

“Okay, new plan. We march through The Warp until we find him.” 


	5. Here we go Again

The year was 1939. Neoth and Erda lived in London at the time. And one thing they liked to do together was watch movies. 

Erda held Neoth’s hand through the lobby of the movie theater, smiling. “Wanna buy some popcorn before the movie starts?”

Neoth smirked. “Don’t worry, Erda. I managed to sneak in some snacks. What I brought is far better than movie theater popcorn.” 

“Oh. Alright then.” They walked into the theater and sat down a few rows from the back, close enough to see the screen, but far away enough that nobody would complain about Neoth’s freakishly tall body from blocking the screen.

The movie was some shitty chick flick titled “Gone With the Wind”. It was the love story of two rich southern aristocrats getting married in the aftermath of the Civil War. About ten minutes into the movie, Neoth pulled some snacks out of his pocket. “Here”, he said telepathically, handing Erda a cookie.   
Erda smiled. “Thanks.” She said back telepathically. As she watched the movie, she leaned against the larger man’s arm, resting her head into it like a pillow.

“Damn.” Neoth said telepathically. “This is not how I remembered slavery. Maybe it’s because this film was directed by white people. But they were definitely not this happy.” 

“Yeah…” Erda said back with her mind. She was silent for a few minutes, until she saw the scene where the two main characters were frenching or some shit. “Neoth?”

“Yes?”

“Do you love me?”

Without skipping a beat, Neoth replied “Of course I do. For five-thousand years we’ve lived together, fought together, suffered together… If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.” 

Erda wasn’t satisfied with that answer. “I mean, do you love me like uh- The people in this movie do?”

“I don’t see the difference. Erda, my relationship with you is like Gilgamesh and Enkidu. That’s how I see it at least. Is there something wrong with that?” He casually reached out and grabbed something out of his pocket. 

And suddenly, it occurred to Erda that Neoth was clueless about romantic love. Was he incapable of feeling such things, or was it deeply repressed within him? Not even she really knew. She then realized Neoth was opening a fucking can of beans. 

“Neoth… Are you eating baked beans in a movie theater?”

“Fuck yeah I am.” He got out a spoon and started eating beans. But in the darkness, his hand slipped and the baked beans spilled all over his lap.

Slaanesh appeared behind the two, invisible to everyone else in the room but them. “YOOOOO THIS HUMAN EATIN BEANS!” He laughed. 

And that was the moment The Emperor started to truly despise the Chaos Gods. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And so, the guardsmen marched through the wilderness of The Warp alongside Cato Sicarius and the traitor Primarch, Magnus, backpacks filled with supplies from the ship strapped to their backs. Magnus led the way, scanning the area around him for any signs of Leman Russ, Wulfric following close behind. But he did so not out of reverence, but so he could get a nice view of Magnus’s hot ass.

It had been a few hours now, and everyone was tired. Especially the guardsmen, who were regular humans, and thus had a set sleep schedule. “Hey! Magnus!” Lupa shouted. 

Magnus stopped walking and turned around. “Yeah?” 

“I think we should all get to bed soon.” 

The Primarch could sense the guardsmen’s drowsiness. Of course, he, Cato, and Lupa weren’t as affected due to their biology. “Good idea. I sense a clearing nearby, let’s camp out over there for the night.” And so, the group walked through the woods for about 5 minutes until they stopped at a clearing with a stream nearby. The exhausted guardsmen eagerly laid some blankets on the ground. Meanwhile, Magnus was setting up a campfire. He had no idea where Lupa and Cato were off to. 

“There we go.” Magnus dusted his hands, looking at the campfire he had just made. He turned around and saw something odd. The guardsmen were in their underclothes cuddling in a pile like dogs. It was certainly a sight he wasn’t used to. Communal sleeping was never practiced on Prospero, nor Terra except in the poorest of slums. He then noticed Beowulf sleeping a few feet away from the pile in his own sleeping bag. He couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the poor psyker, as strange as he found communal sleeping to be. 

“Hey, do you want us to keep watch for the night?” Lupa asked Magnus as she suddenly approached him. Cato was right next to her as well. 

The Primarch shook his head. “No thanks. I’m good.” Magnus usually declined help with things because he was prideful and arrogant. But this time it was because Cato was an annoying little shit and he didn’t want to be stuck with him all night. 

“Alright then. Just wake me up if you need anything. Because I, Cato Sicarius have the might of a billion men and could single handedly raze the surface of an entire hiveworld!” Cato smiled and picked up Lupa. Then the two stripped down to their underclothes. The Astartes curled up next to his lover. And as he embraced Lupa, she started gently licking his face like a dog. Magnus shivered at the sight of it. 

After about 45 minutes or so of keeping watch, Magnus sensed that someone was watching. He put his book down and looked behind him. It was Beowulf. The psyker’s eyes were half-open as if he was having trouble sleeping. Magnus sent him a telepathic message. “Can’t sleep?” 

“Yeah. I keep thinking about stupid shit.” Beowulf replied. 

“Wanna sit with me for a while?” 

“Sure.” Beowulf quietly got out of his sleeping bag and sat on the ground next to Magnus. He noticed the Primarch was reading a book. “What are ya reading?”

“A book about Dark Eldar culture.” Magnus replied, no longer speaking telepathically, fearing using his powers would attract daemons to the campsite. Instead, he whispered. “They’re quite fascinating, albeit in a very fucked-up way.” 

“How so?” Beowulf scooted up closer to get a better look and pushed up his glasses. 

“They live off of the suffering of others and don’t seem to have an understanding of love or friendship of any kind. Everything they do is for their own pleasure and never for the benefit of others.”

“Eugh. They sound like the kind’a bastards who don’t use lube and have a loose concept of consent.” Beowulf stuck out his tongue jokingly, as if feigning disgust. 

Magnus had an idea on where this was heading. “Yeah. I’d never do that unless I wanted to kill someone.” He nervously chuckled. 

“I wouldn’t mind if ya killed me that way.” Beowulf quietly laughed and gave the Primarch a friendly nudge with his elbow. 

Magnus was… intrigued. He found Beowulf quite attractive, among other things. And definitely gay. He wanted to kiss that Primaris Psyker. He wanted to kiss him hard on the mouth and with his tongue. 

Beowulf was a good enough psyker apparently to know exactly what was going on in the Primarch’s head, because he stood up and walked behind a thick tree trunk nearby. He gestured for Magnus to come over, and he did. 

Magnus picked up Beowulf and held him so his face would be on the same level as his, and then they started kissing, passionately. But for some reason, he didn’t want to go past first base. Usually he’d hit all the bases and just let the guy make a home run inside his asshole. There was something different about Beowulf. It was like that one time he made out with that sexy librarian. The passion was all there, but he just wanted to talk. Listen to the words that came out of his mouth and know more about him. It felt more intimate than just letting someone bust a nut inside your asshole. He started thinking a million miles a minute as it all went down. A heated moment of passion behind a tree in the woods, with someone he actually wanted to have a conversation with. 

As things intensified, Beowulf reached towards the Primarch’s ass, but his hand was then guided away out of disinterest. And then the moment passed and they both pulled away. 

“So uhh…” Beowulf looked to the side awkwardly. 

“Yeah. That was really something.” Magnus set the smaller psyker down gently. “Anyways. See you in the morning.” 

“Umm yeah… Thanks…” Beowulf walked back to his sleeping bag, disappointed. 

Magnus sat back down where he was keeping watch. “Fuck.” He thought to himself. “I blew it.” Or maybe he didn’t. It was too hard to tell without peering into the psyker’s mind. And for some odd reason, he didn’t want to violate Beowulf’s privacy. “Shit. Does that make me gay?” He thought to himself. Then he realized he was gay anyways. 

The morning after was uneventful. Everyone woke up, got ready, and ate some rations for breakfast. Cato and Lupa ate something called “Astartes Chow”, which smelled like a combination between dog food and wet unglazed pottery. It reminded Magnus of his Thousand Sons. Unlike his father, he loved his shithead sons. Hopefully he’d get to see them soon. Not much longer later, they were back on the road, in search of Leman Russ. Once again, Beowulf did his duty of double-checking Magnus’s psyker work, but he lagged further behind and avoided eye contact. Magnus couldn’t help but feel that he was to blame for the awkwardness. 

Lupa happened to be near Magnus, as she was leading the charge. And of course, she had her two cents to put in. “OOOOOH Magnusssssssss!” She smirked. 

Magnus frowned. “What is it?” 

“You’re thinking about someone, I can smell it.” She whispered. 

“It’s none of your business.” The half-daemon replied, his expression stoic and taciturn. 

She winked. “Everything is my business, ‘Mags.” 

“Okay first of all, never call me that again or else I’ll rip you in half. Second of all, why do you care in the first place?”

“Because, Magnus. I’m like- a love gru.”   
“It’s pronounced ‘guru’” The Primarch groaned. “And come to think of it, aren’t Astartes supposed to be asexual? How are you two even together?”

“Oh Magnus, you naive little daemon. Don’t you know that asexual just means you don’t experience sexual attraction? Plenty of Space Marines form loving and meaningful relationships with other people. Sex is only a small facet of intimacy.” 

Magnus didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. Perhaps constantly hooking up had fried his brain and made him forget about the finer parts of intimacy. “Of course. That makes a lot of sense.” 

“OOOOH, ARE WE TALKING ABOUT OUR SEXUALITIES?” Captain Cato piped up. “It just so happens that I, Cato Sicarius, am asexual. Which means I, Cato Sicarius shall never fall prey to such heretical actions that allosexuals have been known to do. I am proud to admit that my balls are shriveled up like a raisin and shall never succumb to the temptation of sin. Because I, Cato Sicarius am a man with pure and wholesome intentions.”

Desperate to tune out Cato bragging about being a perma-virgin, Magnus made an attempt to make things less awkward with Beowulf. “So, did you sleep well last night?”

Beowulf nodded. “Yeah.” 

“That’s good. While you were asleep, I read this awesome science fiction book called ‘PeaceHammer: Enterprise of Diplomacy’.” 

Beowulf finally looked up. “Oh, I’ve heard of that. Is it any good?”

“Yeah. I’m only at the first book, but I’m already really liking the series. It’s set in an alternate future where the galaxy is peaceful, and a crew of diplomats travel the galaxy and settle disputes among interplanetary governments. There’s a lot of space politics, but the worldbuilding is stellar, and it’s actually quite the compelling read.” 

“Okay, you’ve got my attention. May I borrow a copy?”

“Sure. Would you like to come with me to my personal library sometime? We can read together. I also have a huge bean bag chair and a bunch of snacks.” Magnus would’ve winked if he didn’t have one fucking eye. 

Beowulf smiled gently. “Yeah. I’d like that very much, Magnus.” 

And all was right in the world. Magnus was finally back to being his usual smooth self and even had a date scheduled. Things were not awkward again… For now. 

Magnus stopped in his tracks. “I sense a Primarch.” He took a deep breath and felt a sharp pain in his chest. There was no doubt about it, Leman Russ was somewhere nearby. Magnus was about to have one hell of a fight.


	6. A Spicy Night in the Woods

A few minutes later, Magnus saw a tall, looming figure on the horizon. It was definitely him, without a doubt. 

Without a word, Magnus approached him, Leman did the same. Although Magnus had a deep disdain for Russ, he knew he had to do this. Swallowing his pride was hard, but being under Tzeentch’s iron fist was even harder. “Brother…” He stared down the other Primarch. 

“And so we meet again…” Leman Russ stared him down as well. “What are ya doin here?”

“I’ve come here to ask you a favor. Father came to me in a dream and told me to gather all of my brothers so we could combine our powers and save him, as well as the galaxy.” 

Leman narrowed his eyes. “And why should I trust you?”

“I despise you. You of all people should know I’d only ask you for help in a time of great need.” 

Leman Russ frowned. “How do I know that Tzeentch didn’t just manipulate ya into doin this?”

“You just need to trust me, Leman.” 

The two stared at each other for a long time, with gazes of uncertainty that could pierce steel. And then Magnus straightened his posture and threw off his chestplate. 

“Oh?” The other Primarch was confused, but intrigued. 

“Let’s wrestle, Leman. Just the two of us. No magic. No bullshit. And if you win, I’ll leave you alone forever.” 

Leman let out a hearty chuckle. “Now yer speakin my language!” He smirked. “Alright, fine. I’ll take you on.” He took all his armor on and stripped down to his pants. The first thing Magnus noticed about Leman was that he was more muscular than him. Although it was difficult to tell due to the thin layer of fat as well as the massive amount of body hair on him. He was built like a bear and definitely had an advantage in this cold climate. Magnus on the other hand, was leaner and hairless. 

Leman tackled Magnus to the ground and tried to put him in a hold. But then Magnus managed to flip himself over and wrap his arm around Leman’s head. 

Everyone else watched with amazement as the two Primarchs fought in the cold tundra of The Warp. But their amazement quickly turned to boredom as the wrestling match hit the three hour mark. Lupa and Cato were both sitting on a rock. They were the only ones still interested, but even their interest was waning. “Wow, Uncle Russ is strong! I haven’t seen a wrestling match this long since that one time I watched two homeless guys outside the Imperial Palace fight over rations. 

“Yeah.” A growling noise came from inside Cato’s armor.

Lupa smirked. “Speaking of rations, do you happen to be hungry, Cato?”

“Perhaps.” He paused and took his helmet off. “Hey, do you smell fried chicken?”

The Fenrisian woman sniffed the air. “Yeah, about a mile away. You wanna uhh-” 

“Go AWOL and get some fried chicken?”

“You know me so well.” Lupa hopped on Cato’s shoulder. “CRUUUUUUUSADEEEEEEEE!”

“For chicken!” And so, the cringey couple wandered off, unbeknownst to even the psykers.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few minutes later, they made it to the source of the smell. It was a small establishment located on the edge of a daemon village called “Khaine’s Chicken”. The two eagerly went in. Luckily there was no line. Lupa looked up at the menu. “Wow! Its nothing but chicken tenders!”   
Cato took a look. “O.M.E, you’re right! Not a lot of variety.” 

An exasperated daemon walked up to the cash register. “Hello, may I take your order?”

“Um yes.” Cato responded. “I, Cato Sicarius would like to order two 25-piece buckets of chicken tenders, with chicken tender sauce on the side. And two large drinks.” 

“What, are you having a party or something?” The cashier mumbled. 

“Yes. A party of two please.” 

The cashier raised an eyebrow. “That’ll be two gold coins please.” Cato slapped down the money and the cashier got the order out from the back. The two Astartes eagerly sat down and looked at their food. 

Lupa squinted. “Cato?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s all chicken.” 

Then it hit him: It was all chicken. Even the drink was made entirely out of chicken. “Holy fucking shit, you’re right. That’s amazing!” 

Lupa eagerly spacewolfed down a chicken tender and frowned. “This tastes like sawdust.” 

Cato tried one and nodded. “You’re right. I will not stand for this heresy!” He got up. “Lupa, we need to purge the entire Warp.” 

“FUCK YEAH!” Lupa dumped the two buckets of fried chicken into her backpack. “BURN IT THE FUCK DOWN!” 

And so, the two Astartes burned down an entire daemon village and purged thousands of heretics. Not just out of religious duty, but to find sauce that made their chicken tenders taste half-decent. 

Meanwhile, Magnus and Leman had been wrestling for three days in a row without any sign of stopping. The Guardsmen had set up camp nearby, bored out of their fucking minds. Suddenly, they heard a very high-pitched scream, followed by another scream that sounded female. Beowulf looked over. “Oh! Looks like our captain is back.” The psyker’s eyes widened. “RED ALERT! POWERFUL DAEMONS ARE HEADED OUR WAY!”

The powerful presence hit Magnus’s mind hard, he jumped off of Leman. “Sorry Leman. But this is an emergency.” Truthfully, he would’ve continued wrestling. But he felt the need to protect Beowulf. Not to mention that Leman would lose respect for him if he let his soldiers die. 

Cato and Lupa were running away from a huge swarm of what appeared to be daemonic bees. Beemons if you will. They certainly weren’t as strong as tyranids, but they were quite powerful nonetheless. 

“Leman, catch!” Magnus used his telekinesis to pick up Leman’s gun and tossed it to him. 

“Thanks.” 

“Now lead the pack.” Magnus said in an almost playful tone. Leman seemed to understand exactly what was about to happen next. The daemon primarch launched Leman Russ into the sky using telekinesis, and the Guardsmen followed. Russ used his aerial advantage to shoot a beemon that was directly under him. The recoil from the gunfire shot him in the air once again. And in no time, he was bouncing from bee to bee, shooting their wings so the Astras on the ground could get to them better. Cato and Lupa eventually got the memo, and ran into each other so the beemons would do the same, sending them hurling towards the ground. Magnus and Beowulf used their telekinesis to unearth boulders from the ground, and used them as psychic ammo to shoot the bees. In no time at all, the beemons were completely destroyed. And thanks to everyone’s teamwork, nobody was badly injured. 

The two Primarchs looked at each other with a big smirk on their face and high-fived. Then at the same time, they collapsed to the ground, exhausted. 

Magnus woke up that evening and took a moment to collect his thoughts. He was in a tent, and he was definitely in the same area he passed out in. And someone was definitely sleeping shirtless with their arm around his shoulder. It was Leman, still tuckered out apparently. Admittedly, he was a bit weirded out by the fact that Fenrisians slept like that, but he found it endearing. Carefully, he slipped out from underneath his brother’s arm and put his armor back on. Then he went outside. Beowulf happened to be standing outside the tent. “Hey Magnus, I was just coming to check on you.” 

The daemon-primarch smiled. “That’s sweet of you, Beowulf.” He gently patted his soft, pale hair. 

Beowulf smiled. “Dinner is in an hour, by the way.” 

“Care to read a book with me?” Magnus offered. 

“Yeah. I’d like that very much.” 

After dinner, the Guardsmen quickly packed up and prepared to go back home to Fenris. Magnus teleported them there. Lupa hugged Cato and said goodbye, while Magnus smiled at Beowulf and reminded him of their upcoming date. Then there was Leman. Even though he was eager to be back home, he still had one last thing to ask of Magnus. 

“Do you mind taking me to Ultramar to see Gulliman?”

“Sure, no problem.” Magnus was honestly relieved that Leman was going to Ultramar with him. All hell would break loose if he went with just Cato. 

The three teleported to Ultramar. 

“What did I tell you, Calgar?” Cato said as he walked in with a shit-eating grin on his face, Magnus and Leman trailing behind him. “I, Cato Sicarius, have returned with the lost Primarch, Leman Russ!”

Calgar screamed internally. “Oh wow, Cato, that’s great. Really… Great.” 

Gulliman rushed into the room. “Pardon, but did I hear that Leman is-” 

“Gulliman!” Leman ran up to hug his brother. “It’s so good to see ya!”

Roboute couldn’t help but hugging back. “Leman… It’s been so long.” He let go. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” He turned to face Magnus and gave him a suspicious look. 

“Heyyyyy Gulliman. I haven’t seen you in a few months. What’s going on?”

Gulliman made no reply and continued to glare at the red Primarch. Magnus knew he was lucky that his brother didn’t just try to kill him on the spot. “Anyways, nice seeing you. Welp, I’m gonna go now, bye.” And then he teleported back home to his library. 

“Damn. What an adventure that was.”


	7. Library of Love

“HEYYYYY MAGNUS WHATCHA DOIN!?” Tzeentch yelled as he suddenly appeared in front of Magnus. 

“DAMMIT TZEENTCH!” Magnus yelped, dropping the book he was getting off of the shelf. He quickly regained composure. “If you must know, I’m organizing my book collection.”   
“OHHHH, HAVING COMPANY OVER?” The chaos god smirked. 

“It’s none of your fucking business, m’lord.” 

Tzeentch narrowed his 100-something eyes. “Well just know I have my eye on you. Or rather, YOUR EYE ON ME HEHEHEHHOOHOOOAHAHA!” And then he vanished. 

“Ughhh… I wish that clown would give me a modicum of privacy.” Magnus groaned, flopping down on his beanbag. “It’ll all be over soon though. I just need to unite my shithead brothers to fulfill my shithead father’s wishes, then I can be free from this shithead chaos god in this shitty Warp.” He took a deep breath and then remembered he needed to pick up his date in ten minutes. “Positive thoughts, Magnus. Positive thoughts.” But no matter how much he tried to reassure himself, anger, stress, and doubt began to fill his head. He considered cancelling his plans with Beowulf, but he knew from experience that would only make things worse. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
A few minutes later, Magnus went over to Fenris and knocked on Beowulf’s door.

“Just a minute!” 30 Seconds later, Beowulf opened the door. He was wearing a dress-up shirt and slacks. Meanwhile, Magnus was wearing a tunic like he normally does when relaxing at home. Beowulf looked up and suddenly realized what was going on. “Uhh… Why don’t I-” 

“Yeah. It’s best you change into something more comfortable. Your normal mage’s robes maybe? You look awfully cute in those.” 

“I-” Beowulf was blushing like mad. “Y-yeah, hold on!” He shut the door and then came out a couple minutes later in his mage’s robes. 

“Perfect.” Magnus gave Beowulf a peck on the cheek and then teleported with him back to the library.

The Primarch sat down on a beanbag chair and got a book from his book belt. “Make yourself comf-” 

“Wow! This is the biggest library I’ve ever seen!” Beowulf was overjoyed. “Sorry I just- Do you mind if I take a look around? I’m seeing a lot of interesting titles.”

“Yeah sure. Go ahead.” 

“Thanks!” Beowulf ran off out of sight, eagerly scanning the shelves.” 

“UGHHHHHHHH” Magnus groaned into the beanbag chair, faceplanted. He was thinking about things that pissed him off again. Like how he had to kiss Leman’s ass in order to further The Emperor’s agenda, or how badly he wanted to go apeshit on Gulliman. He really didn’t like any of his brothers. Except maybe for Mortarion, who was alright to hang out with. Except for the fact he was riddled with disease and Magnus always seemed to catch a new illness every time the two hung out. 

Beowulf returned a few minutes later, carrying a stack of books. “I’m back!” He grabbed a book and sat down next to Magnus. 

“Hey, Beowulf.” Magnus sat up. 

“Everything okay?” Beowulf seemed to sense some bad vibes.

“I’m good.” The Primarch lied. “Just chilling.” He lied even harder. 

Beowulf frowned. “I’m not getting that vibe out of you.” He looked up. “Mind if I hold your hand?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Magnus felt his hand being squeezed lightly. This was happening, it was really happening. His mouth suddenly went dry. All his saliva went straight to his balls to make more cum. He tried to play it cool, but it was difficult. In the old days he could do it easily. But ever since the Horus Heresy, he has slowly lost his chill. Mostly in part due to Gulliman and Tzeentch. 

“Here.” Beowulf set his book down and instructed Magnus to lay down. Then he lay down beside him, snuggling under his arm. “Are you upset about something?” He put a hand on the Primarch’s cheek. 

“If I am, it has nothing to do with you.” He gently kissed Beowulf on the forehead. 

“You know what would help with your stress?”

Magnus narrowed his eye. “What?”

Beowulf put a hand on the Primarch’s thigh and gave him a fucking Barry Benson-style Dreamworks smirk. “A blowjob of course.” 

“Oh- You want to give me a blowjob? Yeah. Sure.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Feeling better now?” Beowulf lay down next to Magnus. 

“I feel a lot better now. That’s for sure”, Magnus exhaled. 

“I’m glad.” 

“Yeah.” He picked up Beowulf and spooned him, then closed his eyes. 

“Sweet dreams, Magnus.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Meanwhile on Ultramar, Cato and Gulliman were playing the greatest tabletop war game of all time: WarMachine, when Calgar walked in. 

Gulliman looked over. “Hello there, Calgar.” 

“Hello, sir.” 

“Were you aware that Cato had a girlfriend?” Gulliman looked back to the board to analyze what he should do for his next turn. 

“Yeah. A guardswoman or something.” 

Cato looked over at Calgar. “Also she’s half-Astartes.” 

Calgar frowned. “Yes, Cato. I’m aware you’re dating your cousin.” 

“SHE’S NOT MY COUSIN, YOU HERETIC! WE COME FROM DIFFERENT PLANETS AND CHAPTERS!” 

Gulliman moved one of his pieces. “Calm down, you two.” 

The Chapter Master frowned. “Anyways, what about it, Gulliman?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if you had one as well.” 

Calgar narrowed his eyes. “You have a girlfriend, Sir? Since when?”

Gulliman’s expression remained taciturn, despite being a little bitch. “Oh, my private life is none of your business.” 

Cato Sicarius snickered like a schoolgirl. 

“Oh! So you trust Cato with such intimate details, but not me, the chapter master? Fuck off!” Calgar walked out the door. 

“There’s a bowl of space pretzels next to the fridge!” Cato shouted, his falsetto echoing across the room. 

Calgar muttered a string of obscenities to himself and went to the kitchen. He saw Lupa alone, putting some pretzels onto a paper plate. “Oh, hey Lupa. How are you?”

Lupa smiled her innocent and unassuming smile. “Good, good. How have you and Cato been getting along ever since he came back from The Warp?”

“Great. I really missed him and I’m glad he’s back.” Calgar tried to play it cool by leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“Yeah.” She chuckled. “I hope I didn’t take him from you guys for too long. He’s like the glue that keeps the Ultramarines together.” 

“This bitch…” Calgar thought to himself. “Yeah, totally. I’m telling you, the man’s unkillable. He once slaughtered five zillion daemons without a scratch on him.” 

“Oh, I know. Saying his exploits out loud makes them sound like a Sly Marbo joke.” Lupa put a pretzel into her mouth. 

“Sly Marbo…” Suddenly, Calgar had an idea. “Hey, I’ve been wondering. Is Sly Marbo actually a real person, or is he just some Guardsmen legend?”

Lupa’s eyes widened in amazement. “Oh wow, you don’t know? He’s definitely real. I’ve known people who’ve seen him, but he’s sort of an enigma. The higher-ups in the Astra Militarum definitely assign him to missions though. He is very real.” 

“Hmm… Interesting.” Calgar suddenly had a great idea. If Cato couldn’t be killed by his own stupidity, maybe he could be killed by the one person who’s even stronger than he is. “Anyways, I’m gonna go back to my tent. See you around.” 

Lupa smiled. “Alright! Bye Calgar!”

Little did she know, Cato was about to be in big trouble...


	8. Yvraine has feelings???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to censor like half this chapter

_It was a few months ago, or perhaps years. The days all started to melt together like a pack of Gushers left out in the sun, amalgamating and melting into one giant gusher. At least, that’s how it felt to Roboute Gulliman. He had recently awoken from his 10,000 year coma and it felt like everything afterwards was a blur. Life had all come by so fast that he had no time to stop to recollect his thoughts. But on this night, he had some time to himself. But instead of spending those few precious moments on himself, there was someone he wanted to get to know better. The very woman who helped save him- and perhaps even mankind itself. Granted, the two were only allies out of obligation, enemies who both faced an even bigger threat. But through that tension came mutual understanding, and perhaps even something else. The night before, he handed Yvraine a key to his hotel room. And now he sat on the edge of his bed, waiting to see if she would come._

_The Primarch perked up as the doorknob jiggled. And sure enough, a tall Eldar woman came in, quickly locking the door behind her._

_“Hey…” She sat down beside him. “I assume you invited me here to hook up with me? At least, that’s how I interpreted it. “_

_Gulliman nodded. “Yes. I’m glad the gesture seems to be universal among our kind.” He looked at her. His face didn’t seem to show it, but he was nervous as hell. He had heard stories of humans hooking up with Dark Eldar and having their dicks ripped off, or worse. But that was all locker room talk. He wanted to see for himself, and he was willing to take the risk._

_“I initially debated on whether or not I should come. It’s quite… taboo for an Eldar to have sex with a human.”_

_“How come?” Gulliman was pretty sure he knew the answer._

_“It’s considered beastiality.”_

_“I figured that’s the case.”_

_Yvraine smirked. “But I’d consider you to be an exception. You conduct yourself quite well for a mon-keigh.”_

_“Trust me, Yvraine. I am fully capable of consent.”_

_The Dark Eldar raised an eyebrow. “Consent? What’s that?”_

_Gulliman feared the possibility of his dick getting ripped off loomed on the horizon. “It’s uh-” He cleared his throat. “Permission to perform a specific sex act on someone.”_

_“So humans like setting boundaries with their partners? A little odd, but I’ll take it.” She continued. “Would it be fair for me to say that I don’t want you to try to dominate me?”_

_“I promise I won’t.”_

_“Good.”_

_There was an awkward moment of silence between them._

_The Primarch spoke up. “Would you mind if I started? To be perfectly honest, I’m quite nervous now and I’d prefer to take initiative.”_

_Yvraine nodded. “Sure. I’m curious to see what sex with a mon-keigh will be like anyways.”_

_Roboute smiled a little. Relieved that something awful wasn’t going to happen to him. He put his arm around Yvraine’s back and they both started making out. Soon, that escalated into much more- passionate endeavors that adults often do._

_But it felt different to Yvraine. It was more than just a quick hook up. She felt something during that time, something she had never felt before._

_"How was it?” Gulliman said as he flopped down next to her. Exhausted, but proud._

_Yvraine was silent for a moment. “The best I’ve ever had.”_

_Gulliman smiled and pulled her in closer. He put her on her side and he started spooning her. “I’m glad to hear that.”_

_The Eldar put her dainty little hand on Gulliman’s massive forearm. “Is it normal to have strange feelings after sex with a human?”_

_“Define strange.” He gently played with her hair and rested his head closer to her’s._

_“I feel warm and fuzzy. Like I never want this moment to end. I’ve never felt that way after having intercourse with members of my own species.”_

_“I believe the feeling you’re experiencing is love.”_

_“So that’s what love is… It feels different from camaraderie.”_

_“Indeed. Love is a powerful emotion. It’s normal to feel a lot of it after having sex. But most or all of it will wear off soon. And it's okay if you still feel it afterwards. That’s nothing to feel ashamed of.” He closed his eyes._

_"Thanks, Gulliman. You’ve taught me a lot tonight.”_

_“You’re welcome. Would you like to fall asleep in my arms?”_

_“I would like that very much.” Yvraine kissed Gulliman’s arm and closed her eyes. Then she drifted off._  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_**Present Day...** _   
  


“So, Cato has a girlfriend now?” Yvraine smirked and daintily sipped a cup of tea, pinky out and saucer underneath.

“She’s really something. Her father is Wulfric Vallhart, a Space Wolf. Which means she’s half-Astartes.” Gulliman took a sip of his tea. “She’s quite the character.” 

“Interesting.” Yvraine smirked. “I bet she’d be fun to hang out with.” 

“Yeah.” The blonde Primarch replied. 

“I just had this like, random idea. Why don’t the four of us all go on a double date?”

“Double date?” Gulliman was intrigued at the idea. “But where? It would have to be low-key. Certainly nowhere within The Imperium.” He took another sip of tea. 

“Eldlantic City.” 

Roboute raised an eyebrow. “Eldlantic City?”

“Yeah. Eldlantic city.” The eldar continued. “It’s a small tourist city outside of Commorragh. It’s pretty low-key. And I happen to know of a pretty good hotel.” 

“Ooh. This could actually work…” Gulliman thought it over. “Would next week work for you?” 

“Yeah.” Yvraine smirked. “This is going to be really fun…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Magnus was reading the newest issue of “Psyker’s Monthly” on his beanbag while listening to music with his ancient piece of technology- a CD player.

_I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want_

_So tell me what you want, what you really, really want_

_I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)_

_I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah_

_If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends_

_(Gotta get with my friends)_

_Make it last forever, friendship never ends_

_If you-_

Then suddenly Fulgrim appeared and Magnus immediately pressed the stop button. “FULGRIM WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE!?”

“I have a great fuckin idea, Magnus.”

Magnus’s cheeks glowed with magic as blood rushed to his face. “Dammit Fulgrim! What if you walked in on me doing something gay!?”

“I just did, Magnus. I heard that Spice Girls CD playing. Anyways, forget about listening to classical music all day. We’re going to Eldlantic City!”

Magnus put down his magazine. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You and I are gonna get some babes!” Fulgrim said enthusiastically. 

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Okay, first of all: I’m not looking to get my dick wet right now. Second of all: everything there is a waste of time. I’d rather stay home and read.” 

Fulgrim sighed. “Okay, I didn’t want to say this right away but… I need to use your fateshifting powers to win a gambling match.” 

“Fuck no.” The red Primarch paused. “Okay. Maybe. What’s in it for me?”

“An entire fucking planet.” Fulgrim smiled with his succulent and sexey lips. 

“Does it have a library?”

“Fuck yeah it does.” 

Magnus stood up and crossed his arms. “Alright. But no funny business.” 

“You won’t be sorry.” 

“I’m starting to regret this already…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, Cato, Lupa, Gulliman, and Yvraine finally made it to the hotel. 

Gulliman held up two suitcases. “Alright, let’s check into our rooms, then we’ll meet down in the lobby.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Lupa replied. The two couples went off to their respective rooms. 

Yvraine opened the door for Gulliman, then they went inside. Gulliman set down the two suitcases on the bed. 

"Everything good, Gulliman?" Yvraine asked, she noticed he seemed on edge. 

"I'm good." But actually, Gulliman had to pee really badly. But he could hold it like a big man- for now. 

Little did everyone know, that Magnus and Fulgrim had just checked in at the same hotel. For the hotel was connected to the casino where the two daemon princes would pull their heist. They walked down the stairs. While doing so, Fulgrim spotted Gulliman and the gang. “Holy shit, Magnus!? Gulliman is here and you didn’t warn me!?” 

Magnus frowned. “Sorry. For some reason I didn’t sense him.” He paused and continued walking. “Anyways, play it cool. This is neutral territory and it would be bad optics to try killing each other in a hotel lobby.” 

Gulliman glared at the two as they walked by. “Magnus. Fulgrim.” 

“Heyyyyy Gulliman. Long time no see, brother.” Fulgrim put on a fake smile. 

Roboute furrowed his brow. “What are you two doing here?” 

“This is my go-to spot for debauchery.” Fulgrim replied. 

Yvraine looked up at Gulliman and nodded. “It’s true. I have heard that Fulgrim likes to come here.” 

“Well I’m not surprised Fulgrim is here. But what about Magnus?” He looked over at him and frowned. “Why are you so pale?”

Fulgrim took a closer look at Magnus. “Yeah. You do look pretty pale. You feeling alright?”

Magnus nodded. “To be honest, I have a splitting headache. But other than that, I’m fine.” He headed towards the stairs. “Anyways, Gulliman. Pay no mind to our presence here, and enjoy your stay.” Fulgrim followed Magnus as well. 

“Wow, he’s really kissing your ass, sir.” Cato said after the two daemon primarchs walked down the stairs.

“I guess he really might have a desire to change after all.” Gulliman turned around. “Either that, or he’s up to one of his evil schemes. Anyways, let’s go.” The two couples went out the door. 

Some crazy shit was about to happen in this space casino.


	9. oops

I accidentally posted this, just go to the next chapter


	10. Ice Cream

“I can’t believe you don’t like gambling, Magnus. You could make a FUCKTON of money here.” Fulgrim looked around. “Look at those slot machines. Its like giving a handjob, except you get paid, and the money is cum!” He looked over at his brother. “Am I the first one to have ever thought of that!?”

Magnus sighed. “No, Fulgrim. People have known about giving handjobs for money since the dawn of civilization. It’s called prostitution.” 

Fulgrim scoffed. “Pssht. Well I wouldn’t know. Because I get my handjobs FOR FREE. Because I’m alpha as FUUUUUUUUCK.” 

“Okay Fulgrim.” The magical man, Magnus groaned. 

Fulgrim turned to face Magnus. “You feeling okay? You’re even paler now.” 

“Actually, no. Could we go outside to get some fresh air please? I feel like I’m going to vomit.” 

“Sure bro. Follow me.” Fulgrim slithered to the door that led to the boardwalk. “If you’re going to throw up, do it on the seagulls. I hate those fuckers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few meters away, Gulliman and his party were eating outside at one of the boardwalk’s many restaurants. 

“So, what do you want to do after this?” Yvraine asked. 

“Oooh.” Lupa stole a fry off of Cato’s plate. “I was thinking we go mini-golfing.” 

“Lupa, everything is mini when you’re my height.” Cato joked. 

“You’d break your back trying to bend over to hold the club.” The Guardswoman joked, playfully elbowing Cato. “Swimming then?”

Cato thought about it for a second. “Swimming in the Webway? Sounds dangerous. But don’t worry, you three. If a sea monster tries to eat you, then I, Cato Sicarius shall boldly come to your aid!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus began to feel a little better after walking along the boardwalk with Fulgrim for a while. He admired the sights of the Webway’s strange oceans and architecture. Meanwhile, Fulgrim was devouring a pizza. 

“Fulgrim, how much do you eat in a day?” Magnus asked. 

“A metric fuckton, why?”

“Because that’s the tenth one you’ve eaten this hour.” 

“I’m a growing boy, Magnus.” Fulgrim rolled up the massive pizza pie into a log, and then swallowed it like a snake. “I need to eat.” 

Magnus frowned. “I think you might have a problem.” 

“Whatever. No I don’t. You’re just jealous that I can eat whatever I want and not gain weight. Alright, let’s go back to the casino.” 

“Okay first of all: I can change my own appearance so that- Okay you know what. I’ll just shut up now.” 

They headed back to the casino and Magnus immediately started to feel nauseous again. 

Fulgrim spoke up. “Okay, the tournament starts soon. You got plenty of magic in you?”

Magnus tried sensing his magic reserves and panicked a little. “I can’t access my own magic for some reason. It’s like someone here is preventing my mana from being used.” 

“Is that why you’re so pale?”

“I guess so. My red color comes from all the magic stored in my body, so that must be it. There is a huge psychic disturbance coming from somewhere within this resort.” 

The serpentine Primarch scratched his chin. “I’m feeling deja vu here… No- Deja boob.” 

“Deja boob?” Magnus narrowed his eye. “Fulgrim, we have no time for you to be thinking about tits more than you already do. We need to find the source of this magical disturbance before the tournament starts.” 

Fulgrim held out his palm as if telling Magnus to shut the hell up because he was thinking of something really big-brain. “I remember this feeling! Okay so…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_About 10,000 years ago…_

_Horus walked over to Fulgrim, who was casually reading the 40 thousandth something Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition out in the open. “Hey have you seen dad anywhere? I need to ask him something.”_

_Fulgrim chuckled as he looked through his booby magazine. “Actually, yeah. He’s making out with some of the Sisters of Silence right now. What a chad.”_

_“Ew. Gross. Also, thanks.” Horus walked away._

_“Make haste if you want to help our father with the deed, Mr. Clean!” Fulgrim shouted._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus wrinkled his face in disgust. “Did you really have to add all those details to the story, Fulgrim?”

“Yes. The exact magazine I was reading. The fact that dad was making out with several vivacious women. The weird comment I made. It was all equally important to my theory that there are several Sisters of Silence in this building.” 

“Okay so…” Magnus thought about it for a moment. “If the Sisters of Silence are here, then there’s not much we can do. I can’t really use my magic to solve this problem. And this is neutral territory, so I can’t use my physical strength either…” 

“I think I have enough magic in me to read people’s minds though. We should be able to cheat our way through regardless.”

“Yeah… That just might work…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  


Lupa set down an umbrella on the beach where the boardwalk was. She threw a towel down on the sand. “There we go. Now let’s go swimming.” 

Yvraine seemed confused. “You guys don't have swimsuits." 

Lupa smirked. "Anything is a bathing suit if you're brave enough." She took off her shirt and ran into the water. "MY SPORTS BRA IS A BIKINI NOW, AWOOOOOOOOOO!"

The Dark Eldar sat down on the beach towel. “You mon-keighs have less shame than I thought." She pulled out a book and started reading, not wanting to get wet. 

Lupa pointed to Cato and Gulliman. "TAKE YOUR SHIRTS OFF AND GET IN THE WATER, YOU FUCKING SMURFS!"

Cato smirked. "I'm getting even less naked, Lupa!" He tore his shirt off, revealing a full set of Ultramarine armor. 

Yvraine looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow. "How the hell did you manage to do that?"

"I'm always wearing my plot armor, Yvraine!" He ran into the water. "COME AND GET ME NOW, SHARKS!"

Gulliman looked at Yvraine with unease. 

"Is everything okay?" 

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm good." But in reality, Gulliman was not good. For he had to piss really bad. But he couldn't piss in the ocean. Because the water would turn purple and attract sharks. "Wait, Yvraine."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Is it true that if you pee in the ocean, the water will turn purple?"

Yvraine raised an eyebrow. "Who the hell told you that?"  
  
"Fulgrim." 

"No, Roboute. You can piss in the ocean. Just do it far away from everyone." Yvraine looked back at her book. 

"Okay. Thanks." Gulliman ran to the ocean to join the others. 

"Hey Gulliman, wanna wrestle?" Cato said as he fooled around with Lupa, splashing her. 

"No thanks, I'm gonna go look for crabs." Gulliman said as he walked a few yards away. He let out just a little bit of piss. He was relieved that the water didn't turn purple. Yvraine was right. What Gulliman didn't know was that human urine was chemically similar to fish blood. And sharks could smell fish blood from a mile away. 

"LUPA, LOOK OUT!" Cato grabbed Lupa and the guardswoman squirmed. 

"What's going on!?"

Suddenly, a shark the size of a megalodon breeched out of the water. And sitting atop its back was a guardsman from the Catachan regiment. He pointed a rifle in the direction of Cato's head and aimed the red dot right at his face. But before he could even pull the trigger, the shark bit Cato right on the arm. 

"AGHHHH!" Cato shrieked. 

Then the shark let go and swam away. 

Cato let go of Lupa and let out a sigh of relief. 

"What the hell was that!?" The Fenrisian asked in amazement. 

"Who knows. That's the fifth time in the past week I've seen that Catachanian weirdo. But luckily, my plot armor shields me from anything bad happening!" Cato bragged. 

"Wow. Cool." 

Gulliman was suddenly too scared to piss again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“AYYYY, what’s up, Yvraine?” Fulgrim slithered behind her, Magnus beside him. “Our match is in an hour and we just came outside to get some fresh air.” 

Yvraine turned her head. “I see.” She looked over to Magnus. “I can feel your suffering, Magnus. And it’s delicious.” She looked around. ”Do you know if there’s any psychic disturbances in the area by chance?”

“Why do you ask?” Magnus replied, curious. 

“I feel a general sense of unease. Like the kind I get when I’m around Gulliman’s Sisters of Silence.”  


“That would be because Gulliman’s Sisters of Silence are around.” Fulgrim butted in. 

Yvraine frowned. “Why the hell would the Sisters of Silence be here? This is the last place I’d expect.” 

Fulgrim turned over to Magnus. “Do you think they’re trying to purge the place?” 

Magnus shook his head. “That would be a terrible diplomatic move on their part, considering the loose alliance The Imperium has with the Dark Eldar. No, I think they’re engaging in debauchery too.” 

Slaanesh’s little bitch shrugged with his four arms. “Well, I did see some people from the Ecclesiarchy here once. Everyone likes to get down and dirty now and then.” 

“Even Fyodor?” Magnus asked. 

“What happened with me and Fyodor stays between me, him, and that one stall in the bathroom with the hole drilled into it.” Fulgrim replied rather defensively. "Anyways, what's going on with Gulliman?" 

Yvraine shrugged. "He's afraid to piss in the ocean." 

Fulgrim scoffed. "What a wuss! Doesn't he realize that you can pee anywhere you want as long as you're standing in water?"

"Eww! Gross!" Magnus replied. 

"Oh brother, you don't even wanna know what I did in The Imperial Palace's swimming pool. Half of the water in there was just my piss." 

"No wonder it gave me pinkeye twice!"

Fulgrim shrugged. "Well, now you dont have to worry about getting pinkeye, you just have one-eye!"

"Fulgrim." Magnus groaned. He walked away. "YOU'RE FUCKING STUPID!"

The snakeman fucking shrugged. "Geez. Hey Yvraine, wanna get some ice cream?"

"Okay." She followed Fulgrim. 

A few minutes later, Cato and Lupa stopped wrestling and swam over to where Gulliman was. Lupa poked her head out of the water next to Gulliman and surfaced. “Hey Gulliman! Catch any crabs yet?” 

“No.” Gulliman took a deep breath and turned to face her. “Actually, I’m a bit bored right now and I’m sure Yvraine is too. Maybe we should meet back at the ho-” He suddenly realized Yvraine was gone. “Where’s Yvraine?”

“Oh. She went off with Fulgrim.” Lupa casually replied. 

“SHE WHAT!?” Gulliman started running back to the beach. 

Gulliman ran off to the boardwalk and found Magnus near the entrance. “Magnus, do you know where Fulgrim is?”

Magnus didn’t expect to see Gulliman, but he completely understood where this was going. “I have a good idea, I’m actually supposed to meet him right now. Why don’t you follow me?”

“That would be great.” 

And so the two went off to the hotel, and in the lobby, Yvraine and Fulgrim were eating ice creams. Magnus didn't give a shit about the situation, so he went downstairs.

Gulliman frowned. "You two seriously got ice cream without me?" 

"Yeah, so?" Yvraine asked. 

"It's impolite to, you know." Gulliman sighed. "I'll explain it to you later. Anyways, I'm going downstairs." 

The Dark Eldar was confused at first, but then she realized what Gulliman was feeling was jealousy. It actually kinda turned her on. Nobody had ever gotten this jealous for her before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where the fuck is he…” Magnus thought to himself, looking around. Fulgrim must’ve been goofing off again. What an asshole. He knew how to play poker anyways though. At least, he assumed it was poker. What other card game would you play in a high-stakes match at a casino?

  
  


He walked over to the table Fulgrim said he would be at since the match was about to start. But when he got there, it was full of Sisters of Silence. “Excuse me, ladies. Do you know where the big poker game is?” 

The sisters exchanged confused glances with each other. One of them spoke up. “We’re waiting on Fulgrim actually.” 

“Well actually, I’m here to take Fulgrim’s place.” 

“How come?” One of the sisters asked. 

“He’s eating ice cream." 

“Every time.” Another sister mumbled. “He’s coming back soon, right?”

“Yeah.” Magnus nodded. He was probably better at poker than Fulgrim anyways. 

“Alright. We’ll have you play against Athena then.” The tallest sister pointed to a woman with a menacing, but eager glare from under her mask. 

Magnus sat down across from her. “We’re doing this one-on-one?” 

“Well, that’s how Magic: The Gathering tournaments are typically formatted.” Athena said. 

“Magic the-” Magnus suddenly realized he had made a terrible mistake. Sure he knew how to play Magic, he even had a couple decks. But he hadn’t played a game in years, not that he played it much to begin with. He was more of a Yu-gi-oh kind of guy (Shadow Games were all the rage on Prospero). Luckily, he had a deck laced with teleportation magic in case he ever got invited to a surprise tournament. “Alright. Let me get my deck.” He took a deep breath, then closed his eyes and focused. Summoning items wasn’t very hard for Magnus. But he hardly had any magic in him due to the presence of the sisters. Finally, he managed to make the deck manifest on the table. But it took everything in him. He was exhausted and dizzy. Not to mention, the whole reason he came in the first place was to cheat his way through the tournament with fateshifting magic. 

Athena held up a coin. “Heads or tails?”

“Tails.” Magnus answered. 

She flipped the coin and it landed on the head. “I’ll go first.” She shuffled her deck and drew 7 cards. “I choose to keep my hand. Your turn.” 

With his shaky hands, Magnus shuffled his deck. As he did so, the sisters stared him down with their beady, untrusting eyes. Everyone was watching. There was no way he could cheat even without magic. He drew 7 cards. He got a hand with 6 lands, so he mulliganed again. He got a hand with 5 spells and 1 land. Then he mulliganed down to 5 cards. It wasn’t great, but it would have to do for now.

“Alright. I shall begin then.” Athena already had the advantage, having 2 more cards than Magnus. She put down an Island land card, then 3… memnites? Why would someone waste their precious deck slots on such a useless creature? Unless she was planning to do something nefarious with them.

"Turn."  
  


Magnus drew a card- an island. Which wasn’t too bad of a draw. He tapped the land, then cast Serum Visions. He drew a card, then looked at the top 2 cards of his deck, which were land cards. He put them on the bottom of his deck. “Done.” 

Athena drew a card. Although she wore a mask and was as taciturn as ever, Magnus knew she was planning something sinister. She put down a Darksteel Citadel, then cast Vedalken Artificer, then swung board for 3 damage. Magnus was now down to 17 life. “Turn.” 

Magnus drew a card- Bloodstained Mire. He spent 1 life to sacrifice it and put a Swamp card onto the battlefield. He then tapped the swamp to kill Vedalken Engineer. He was now at 16 life. “Turn.” 

Athena drew a card, then tapped her Island to cast Thoughtcast. She drew 2 cards and cast Signal Pest and Ornithopter. Then she attacked with her 3 memnites again. Magnus was now at 13 life. “How am I losing?” He thought to himself. He was great at Magic: The Gathering. This was the worst possible time for him to have such terrible luck. 

“Turn.” 

Magnus drew a card- Search for Azcanta. Finally, a permanent card! He placed it onto the battlefield tapped, then cast Search for Azcanta. “Turn.” 

Athena drew a card. Then she put down an Island land card. Then she tapped 2 lands to cast Cranial Plating. Then she tapped her remaining land to attach it to Ornithopter. “Swing board.” And in an instant, it was all over. Somehow, she managed to do 14 damage on her fourth turn.

Magnus just sat there- dumbfounded. “Uhh- GG.” 

“Wow. I expected more from the almighty and powerful sorcerer, Magnus the Red.” Athena scooped up her cards and shuffled her deck. “You better sideboard for next round, because your cards are absolute shit.” 

“Umm-” Not only was he disoriented, but he was caught off-guard completely by the Sister’s comments. He had received many an ass-kicking by the Sisters of Silence, but this was the first verbal one so far. 

“What’s wrong, ‘Daddy Tzeentch’s ‘lil magic boy’? Gonna cry? Piss your pants? Maybe cum?”

“Speaking of that- I actually need to go to the restroom. Like, right now.” His face suddenly turned pale. 

“Alright. But be quick, I still need to kick your ass.” 


	11. Piss

Gulliman had to piss BADLY. He quickly made a beeline for the bathroom and unzipped his fly. But after finally relieving himself, he realized he pissed in the sink and that the sheer force of his stream had caused it to splash on the paper towel machine and mirror. "FUCK!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus made a beeline for the nearest restroom. He ran into the first stall and didn't even see Gulliman. He lifted up the toilet seat and kneeled, clenching his abdomen. Everything hurt so badly. He was exhausted, he couldn’t do this anymore. He emptied out the contents of his stomach into the toilet. But it didn’t feel like sweet release. It all still hurt- so badly. A couple minutes later, he felt another wave coming and he retched, as he did so, he heard the sound of something splashing. It wasn’t him- it came from outside the stall. He heard the sound of the stall door opening a few moments later. Then he felt someone hold his hair. “Thanks…” He groaned. Then he detected the stranger’s aura- it was Gulliman.

“Is everything alright?” There was a sense of panic in the Primarch’s voice. 

“No. Your stupid Sisters of Silence are here, and they made me sick…” Magnus said, his nose now stuffy. 

“Oh… Shit.” Gulliman mumbled under his breath. 

Magnus started puking again. Gulliman hesitated for a moment, but then he started rubbing his brother’s shoulders in an attempt to make him feel better. 

There were more knots in Magnus’s back than in a circlejerk of Space Wolves. 

Magnus’ vomiting finally ceased and he gasped for breath. “Thank you, brother.” 

“Come on, let’s get some fluids in you.” Gulliman helped Magnus up and then the two sat down on the floor next to the sink. He pulled a bottle of water from his bag and handed it to the sick primarch. “Here.” 

“Thanks.” Magnus gingerly took the water bottle and took a few sips. He looked over at Gulliman occasionally, who looked back with suspicious, but concerned eyes. “Why are you helping me?”

“I don’t hate you as much as you think, Magnus.” Gulliman frowned. “You might be an asshole, but you weren’t always that way.” 

The red Primarch’s eyes hit the floor. “Was I though?”

“You were. I remember the good old days. When you were eager to learn and wanted to understand everything and everyone you came across. When you tried to help out with things however you could. When you dealt hugs nearly on the same level as Vulkan’s. That’s the Magnus I knew.” 

“Times have changed.” Magnus took another sip. “Now look at us. We’re sitting on the bathroom floor at a casino. I just puked my guts out. You’re helping out a traitor Primarch. “We’ve hit rock bottom, brother.” 

Gulliman let out a small chuckle. “It’s good to have you back.” 

“You’re not pissed at me for what I’ve done to you?” 

“Of course I am, Magnus. That is a grudge I will bear for a long time. But I’m not like father. I have the capacity to understand why you do the things you do. I can forgive you. And besides, revenge is not something the people of The Imperium need right now. We need truth, compassion, and reconciliation with our past misgivings.” 

“You’re as pragmatic as ever.” Magnus continued. “Does this have something to do with me bringing back Leman?”

“He told me what happened with you two.” Gulliman paused. “You swallowed your own pride to reconcile with one of your biggest enemies. That’s very mature of you, Magnus. I’m proud of you.” 

“Ughhhh. Shut up.” Magnus groaned, he took another swig of water as his cheeks started to glow.

Gulliman let out a hearty chuckle. “Some things never change.” 

There was a long pause between the two of them. 

“Gulliman… did you piss all over the mirror?”

The blonde Primarch sighed. “Some very regrettable things have happened today. A few years in the future we might tell this story at a party, and then immediately regret it and realize just how embarrassing this all was.” 

“Do you just.. Wanna go home?” 

“Honestly, yeah.” Gulliman helped Magnus stand back up. “Let’s get the others.” 

As the two exited the bathroom, they saw one hell of a sight in the casino. 

“LET GO OF ME, YOU FUCKING FUCKS!” Fulgrim was on the ground, with the Sisters of Silence kicking the shit out of him. 

Magnus was disappointed, but not surprised. “Should we-”  


Gulliman lightly put a hand on the psyker’s shoulder. “Let them have their moment.” He let them go at it for another 30 seconds. “Okay, sisters. That’s enough.” 

The Sisters of Silence stopped and straightened their posture. “Lord Gulliman, we had no idea you were here.” 

“I was-” Gulliman realized that none of this was good for his image. He didn’t expect anyone he knew to be in some sleazy casino in The Webway. “Tracking down Magnus the Red. Good work, sisters. Thanks to your powers, he’s finally weak enough for me to take back to the Imperial Palace. I shall be on my way.” 

Magnus acted along to appease his brother’s sense of pride. “I MAY NOT HAVE MY PSYCHIC POWERS! BUT I’M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS, YOU BLONDE BITCH!”

Gulliman put Magnus into a chokehold and started to drag him away. “We’ll see about that.” Magnus made some very convincing wheezing noises until he was out of the sister's hearing range. After the two made it to the front of the hotel, Gulliman let go. “Thanks for playing along. You really took one for the team today.” 

Magnus smirked. “As much as it pains me to say, I actually kinda enjoyed that. I haven’t let my inner theater kid loose in a long time.” 

“If by a long time you mean 3 months ago, then I suppose.” Gulliman started walking to the boardwalk.

“Shut up.” He playfully elbowed Gulliman and followed. 

“I can’t believe we’re enemies.” 

“We’re enemies?”

“Well I mean- I’m still under Tzeentch’s control.” 

Gulliman’s expression turned a bit serious. “Do you know why Tzeentch has let you do all this lately? It seems weird that you brought back Leman Russ and faced no repercussions.” 

Magnus frowned. “Truthfully, it might be father who is shielding me. Or perhaps this is part of Tzeentch’s plan.” He could tell that Gulliman wasn’t letting his guard down anymore. “Leman told you about my dream, right?”

“The one where you saw father?”  


“Yeah. That one.” 

Gulliman nodded. “Yeah. He told me about it. Have you been able to contact his soul since then?”

“No. I have not.” 

“GULLIMAN! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING!?” The Primarch turned his head and realized Yvraine was chasing after him. He stopped to let her catch up. “Shit… Sorry, Yvraine- I completely forgot I had left you.” 

She finally caught up and stopped. “You’re not usually scatterbrained like this. What’s up?” 

Gulliman and Magnus exchanged ashamed glances, not sure what to say. Eventually, Gulliman gave in and sighed. “I had an ‘accident’.”

Magnus could feel the embarrassment radiating off his brother. “Speaking of accidents, have you seen Cato and Lupa?” 

Yvraine shook her head. “No clue.” 

“I’m far away enough from the Sisters that my psychic powers are starting to come back.” Magnus closed his eye and focused, trying to get a read on the two. A few moments later his eyes widened in surprise. 

“What is it?” Gulliman seemed concerned. 

“Orks.” Magnus said. “They’re with a bunch orks.”

“Why would those two be with a bunch of orks!?” Yvraine asked, confused. 

Gulliman didn’t seem to know either. “Either to have a party, or to kill them all. Cato always wanders off and does dumb shit like that.” 

“I’m sure the two will be fine since they’re both Astartes. But we better check on them just in case.” Magnus commented. 

“Agreed.” Gulliman nodded. “You take the lead, Magnus.” 

“Right.” Magnus lead the two to a docking station on the edge of the hotel’s property. It was stationed on a cliff on the edge of the floating island the hotel and boardwalk were on. There was a large, crudely-built spaceship. “I don’t sense a Gellar Field. That’s definitely an ork ship.”

Fulgrim looked at the ship from afar. “You can tell how brutish they are by just taking a gander at their architecture.” 

“They might be crude, but they’re incredibly effective.” Gulliman pointed out as he went on ahead. 

Magnus could sense that Gulliman was fully intent on going inside. He hoped that his brother’s diplomacy would work. If not, they were prepared for one hell of a fight judging by the size of the ship. 

“ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID, GULLIMAN!?” Fulgrim grabbed his brother by the shoulder. “If your diplomacy won’t work, they can just deny you entry and fly away with Cato and Lupa.” He shook his head haughtily. “We need to disguise ourselves as Orks.” 

Magnus frowned. “I don’t have enough magic in me at the moment to pull that off.” 

“I have magic-” Fulgrim reached into his pocket. “RIGHT HERE!” He pulled a makeup palette right out of his pocket. “My newest eyeshadow palette!”

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “You have your own makeup line?”

“And my own WarpTube beauty channel! Now come over here and let me put some ‘WAAAGHHHH Green on your faces.” Fulgrim instructed as he got out a set of makeup brushes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two ork guards were keeping watch of the ship when they saw the three Primarchs approach them. “Wot are you tall Boyz do'n ere?”

Fulgrim lead the charge of utter bullshittery. “We’re ere for food uv kourse. Me an’ ma Boyz are so hungry right now an’ we forget where 'da ship’s kitchen iz. Would yer kindly lead us 'der?”

“Right dis way, big bosses” One of the guards said. He went inside the ship and headed to the kitchen, the three Primarchs followed.

“Are we really going on a pit stop for snacks?” Gulliman whispered. 

“Gulliman, I haven’t eaten in over an hour. I’m absolutely famished!” Fulgrim said dramatically. 

“I just watched you eat an entire pizza.” Magnus said. 

“Yeah. _An_ entire pizza. Not plural, just one pizza. That’s not nearly enough!” 

The ork guard stopped at the ship’s cafeteria. “Alright. Ere yer are.” He said before walking back to where he was standing guard. 

“Alright. How about we split up. I check the east wing. You check the west wing. Keep checking back on me with your telepathy so we can communicate.” Gulliman said, already coming up with a plan.

“What about Fulgr-” Magnus realized that Fulgrim was already chowing down on the food in the cafeteria. “Okay. I’ll check the west wing.” He walked away. Gulliman headed in the other direction. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Alright. Now I’m ready to come up with a plan.” Fulgrim announced after eating his 144th chicken nugget. He looked around. “Those fuckers left without me!” 

“PSST! Fulgrim!” A voice said from nearby in a harsh whisper. 

Fulgrim looked around. “Huh?”

“Down here!”

He looked down, and sure enough, Cato and Lupa were hiding beneath the table next to him. 

Fulgrim sprawled out on the bench he was sitting on to get closer to the two. “Magnus and Gulliman are looking for you. What the hell are you two doing on this ship?”

“We got bored, so we wandered off to purge some xenos.” Lupa said. 

“That’s a really stupid idea. But I admire your guts.” Fulgrim sighed. “Anyways, Gulliman wants to leave early, so we should probably get off this ship before it takes off.” 

“Oh don’t worry. We still have time.” Cato replied. “The ship doesn’t take off until 11 pm.” 

Suddenly, the ship’s engine went off and he felt it move. 

Lupa looked around. “Oh wow. It’s 11 already? It’s not even dark outside.” 

Fulgrim facepalmed. “Its 11 pm in ork time, you idiots!” He sighed. “Well it’s too late to go back. I guess we’re gonna have to wait for the ship to land. In the meantime, let’s look for Magnus and Gulliman.” 

Fulgrim suddenly felt a psychic presence in his head. “Fulgrim, how’s everything going in the cafeteria?” It was Magnus. 

“Twiddle-dee and Twiddle-dipshit are in sight. Over.” Fulgrim said in his mind as if he was a guardsman speaking into a walkie talkie. 

“Okay. I’ll relay that to Gulliman.” Magnus replied. 

Fulgrim stood up. “Okay you two. Let’s just play it cool until the ship lands.” 

“Come on, Fulgrim. Don’t you just wanna go apeshit?” Lupa asked. 

“I’m a dignified gentleman, Lupa. I don’t just” he put his fingers up in finger quotes. “”Go apeshit”. I have class. And self-control.” 

Cato scoffed. “You’re a daemon of Slaanesh. What self-control?” 

“Oh right. Good point.” Fulgrim pulled four swords out of the sheaths attached to his armor. “LETS GO FUCKING APESHIT!” 

An ork overheard Fulgrim’s speech and jumped on a table. “YEAH! LET’S GO FUCKING APESHIT BOYZ!” He then proceeded to rip off his shirt and pull a gun from his holster. **“WAAAGH!”**

Suddenly, all the orks in the cafeteria started beating the snot out of one another. Then the pandemonium spread throughout the ship like a wave of utter insanity.

“Gulliman, how are things on your end?” Magnus asked via telepathy. 

“The orks started brawling for no apparent reason. How about you?”

“Same here.” Magnus tried to get ahold of Fulgrim. But he failed, the man’s mind was consumed by pure and utter WAAAGH!. “Oh shit”, the cyclops thought to himself. He got back to Gulliman. “Rendezvous in the cafeteria.”

“Robot.” Gulliman responded. 

“What?” Magnus asked. 

“You know. What the guardsmen say at the end of a transmission.” 

“I think you mean Roger?”

“Oh. Robert.” Gulliman said, ending the transmission. 

The two remaining sane people on the ship met in the cafeteria, where they saw their brother jumping on a table holding four cutlasses and going fucking nuts. Roboute crossed his arms. “Just as I expected. Fulgrim started all this.” 

Magnus frowned. “What makes you so sure he started it?”

“I fight both of you enough to know that you’re both fucking crazy.”

“Come on, I’m not that-” Magnus paused. “Maybe. But I’m sane compared to Fulgrim.” 

“Maybe so.” Gulliman admitted. “Anyways, for now we need to fend for ourselves and make sure nobody breaks the ship on accident. Trying to purge this many orks on such a flimsy battleship is too risky.” 

“You’re right.” Magnus said. “Let’s stick together and look out for the others.” 

On the other side of the cafeteria, Lupa and Cato were coming up with a plan under the cafeteria table. 

“Okay. Remember when we purged all those daemons?”

Lupa nodded. “Of course.” 

“We could use guns there, but here I think it would be a bad idea to use too much firepower. It needs to be like in that one daemon village where we started the crusade via starting a barfight.” Cato explained. 

Lupa smirked. “That’s no problem, considering I’m a master at bar fighting. And holding back my vomit when I’m wasted out of my mind.” 

“I know you are. Dare I say that you’re even better at melee combat than I, Cato Sicarius?”

“I am and you know it.” 

“Hey. Come here.” Captain Sicarius put his hand on the back of Lupa’s head. They kissed.

Lupa pulled away after a few moments. “My love, this will be one for the history books.” She smirked and got out from under the table. 

Cato got up as well. And in a coordinated assault, they started punching left and right, pummeling the shit out of the greenskins. 

Gulliman tapped Magnus’s shoulder, signalling him to look in his direction. 

“Oh shit.” The cyclops groaned. 

“It’s fine though. I trust Cato for this kind of thing.” He looked around. “I think our main concern is Fulgrim.” 

“Yeah. He’s completely out of control. If anyone is going to accidentally punch a hole in the ship’s wall, it’s him.” Magnus stared questioningly at the daemon prince, wondering what to do. 

“Let’s subdue him.” Gulliman suggested. He and Magnus headed over to distract Fulgrim. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Cato and Lupa had a sizable body count. And the orks began to notice they weren’t fighting fairly. One of them finally spoke up. “Hey! dese 'umiez ain’t fight'n' fair! dey're stomp'n' everyone!” Suddenly, every ork in the room turned towards them. All the pandemonium on the ship turned towards two Astartes. “Get ‘em!” They charged in discordant unison, bearing maces, bats, and all sorts of crude ork weapons. Still, Cato was confident in his abilities as a fighter. He had once killed a zillion xenos with one punch of his fist- a number so large that the Ultramarine‘s scribes had to make up that number for the records. And also that time he killed like, a bajillion drukhari- which was also something he bragged about and totally did once. However, he was worried for Lupa. Although she was a skilled fighter in her own right, she didn’t have nearly the same level of experience as he did. Every now and then, Cato looked back to see Lupa back to back with him, covering his blindspot. Even though he could totally fight off the rest of the orks himself, he was still grateful for the help. It boosted his already enormous ego knowing that he had such a beautiful woman who loved him so much. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Lupa fought the orks, she glanced out of the window every now and again. And eventually, she realized the ship had just gone into the Warp. And a few moments later, she started to feel odd. But she shook it off, too immersed in the heat of WAAAGH! To care about her unease. Gradually, that unease turned into pure unbridled fury and she began to lose control, succumbing to the bestial urges that ran wild through her blood. “AWOOOOOO!”

The hair on her arms suddenly grew into thick bushy fur. Her fangs and nails grew all at once. And her legs morphed into some sort of lycanthropic, digitigrade furry fanfiction disaster. 

She had become a wulfen. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Gulliman and Magnus were busy subduing Fulgrim. Which was no easy task considering that he had lost his collective shits. But suddenly, all the orks started running in the same direction and yelling something incomprehensible. None of them were interested in fighting Fulgrim any longer. 

“Huh?” Fulgrim raised an eyebrow and sheathed his sword. He looked around, and gradually started to regain composure. He then realized Gulliman and Magnus were right next to him. “Uh, hi guys?”

Gulliman raised an eyebrow. “Uh. Hi, Fulgrim?” He looked back at Magnus and came to a sudden realization. “What about Yvraine?”

“What?” Magnus asked. 

“She hasn’t been mentioned in like 12 paragraphs, where is she?” Gulliman was suddenly worried. 

“I’m over here, meatheads!” Yvraine shouted from a nearby table. She was eating a piece of pineapple cake. 

“Oh okay. Just checking on you!” Gulliman replied. “Anyways, why did the orks suddenly go away?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Cato looked back at Lupa in shock. She had turned into some sort of- Warp monster. He had seen many horrifying things in his life, but this had really took the cake. And not like the delicious pineapple upside down cake that was currently being served in the cafeteria. His fight or flight instincts kicked in all at once. Memories of what happened in the Warp flooded his mind and flashed before his eyes. His soldiers mutating into horrible abominations and turning on him. And as he remembered those things, other incidents related to that popped up as well. And within seconds, decades of trauma plagued his mind and caused him to panic. His mind went to autopilot and relied on nothing but instinct, going against all the mental training he had undergone as an aspirant. When he finally came back to his senses, he had Lupa pinned against to a wall with a knife to her throat. 

“Cato…?” She was frozen, stunned at the sight before her. She suddenly started turning back into her regular self, as if the transformation were only temporary. 

The orks stopped fighting and just gawked at the two, not knowing what the fuck was going on, and also realizing that trying to fight against Cato’s mary sue plot armor was useless. 

Cato dropped the knife, his hand shaking. He took a step back. “I-” 

Before Cato had time to explain what the hell just happened, the door to the ship opened, and the crew of another ship docked on. They were pirates. But not ork or eldar pirates. Human pirates. Their leader was a tall, battle-scarred woman with an eyepatch. Her crew- all female and nearly as tall. She walked through the cafeteria with her intimidating soldiers trailing behind. “Hand over your treasure, greenskins!” 

Magnus, who was clear on the other side of the cafeteria, turned around and stared intently at her. 

“.... Cygnus?”


	12. Cato gets his own chapter

A long, long time ago. Millenia ago in fact, there was a baby boy who crash landed on a planet in some kind of incubation tube. He was soon found by two loving human parents, who loved him just as much as they loved exploring the galaxy in search of new planets and exciting adventures. Life would’ve been good for him, if it wasn’t for the fact that when he was a few months old, he was kidnapped by Eldar pirates. 

The young boy grew bigger and stronger before the pirate’s very eyes. And within just a few years, he surpassed the might of everyone aboard despite only being a child. This threatened the captain, who ordered to have him killed in his sleep. That night, he awoke to a sword in his right eye socket. In a panic, he jumped up and killed the perpetrator in one blow. It was the captain, the very man who he thought of as his father. And thus began a life full of trust issues for the young boy. Who was now… a grown woman?    
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Cygnus…?” Magnus gingerly took a step towards the woman. “Is that you?”

Gulliman and Fulgrim were confused. “Magnus, you know her?”

Magnus frowned and looked back at them. “You don’t remember!?”

Cygnus seemed dumbfounded at the sight that lay before her. “I didn’t know you were on this ship, Magnus. I shall be on my way n-” 

Before Cygnus had time to walk away, Magnus held her in place with telekinesis. “No, Cygnus. I want the truth! Malcador wiped our memories of you, I need to know what the hell happened.” 

The pirate shook off the telepathy and hesitantly took a step towards him. “You’re not my brother, Magnus.” 

“Bullshit.” 

Gulliman spoke up. “Magnus, seriously. Who is this woman?”

“The Second Primarch.” Magnus said. 

“He’s dead.” Gulliman stated. 

“And also a dude.” Fulgrim added. 

“That’s what The Imperium wanted you to think.” Said Cygnus. 

“Well, is it true that you’re a traitor?” Asked Roboute. “Or was that just a lie too?”

Cygnus furrowed her brow. “I’ve never wanted any association with your Imperium, nor your dysfunctional family. Not now, nor ever. The Emperor and I made an agreement to fake my death in exchange for my freedom, because he knew I’d be a threat otherwise.” 

There was a long silence between the four Primarchs. Even the orks were silent because they were confused as fuck. Finally, Fulgrim broke the silence. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you and your Astartes are chicks now. Seriously, is nobody going to address the elephant in the room?”

“Shut up Fulgrim. That’s not important now.” Magnus said in a harsh whisper. 

“Anyways. Have a nice life.” Cygnus started to walk away. 

“Wait!” Magnus stopped her. “Could you give us a ride home?”

She turned around. “What?”

“We’re stuck on an Ork ship and we’re lost in The Warp.” Magnus pointed out. 

Cygnus furrowed her brow. “Alright. But no funny business. And as I said before, I don’t want to have any kind of relationship with you guys after this. I’m not into the whole ‘family’ thing.”    
  


“And I respect that.” Magnus sighed. 

“Thank you.” Cygnus waved her cape. “Now follow me before I change your mind and leave you all to die.” 

~~~

Cato quickly got back to his feet and was the first in line. Lupa lagged along behind the other Primarchs. He was wracked with guilt. He wanted nothing more but to explain himself, but he was afraid the time had passed. 

They all boarded the ship. It was a nice space pirate ship, with a good view. And a poop deck that was surrounded by a thick acrylic dome. You could really hold your girlfriend on the front tip of the deck and scream out the lyrics to “My Heart will go on”. But sadly, Cato couldn’t do that anymore. And Lupa well, she was hiding behind Gulliman. He desperately wanted to say something to her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Cygnus. Just so you know, we are very grateful for this favor. And I really hope you have it in your heart to rejoin our family one day. I don’t really remember you, but I still love you as much as I love the rest of my siblings.” Gulliman said to Captain Cygnus as she was steering her ship. 

“Cut the crap, Julius Cheeser.” Cygnus said as she glared at Roboute. 

Gulliman sighed and walked away. He then felt a hugging sensation on his greaves. Sure enough, it was Lupa, who was hugging his leg. He knelt down to take a closer look at her. “Is something wrong, Lupa?”

“Cato attacked me and I don’t know why.” 

“What?” Gulliman looked over at Cato, shocked. He had no idea why Cato would do such a thing. “Give me context for this.” 

“I turned into a Wulfen and he suddenly started panicking and held a knife up to my throat.” 

Come to think of it, Gulliman did remember Leman saying something about being able to shift in and out of being a Wulfen after spending time in the Warp. It was possible that Lupa had the same mutation. “He probably panicked and was scared.” He said in a calm, gentle voice. “I know Cato. He would never hurt someone he cares about.” He was starting to realize that maybe Captain Sicarius was traumatized by something he saw during all those years he spent in The Warp. That had to be it. He couldn’t think of any other reason why Cato would lash out like that. Cato was well-known as a quick fighter who reacted at the speed of lightning. He never thought things through in the heat of battle. He just did what his instincts told him to. “Listen, Lupa. Cato is like… A wolf.” 

“I’m listening.” Lupa nodded. 

“He relies on his instinct a lot, and does a lot of things without thinking them through. He was probably just scared of you. You’ve had a wolf accidentally bite you before, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Gulliman got up. “Would you like for me to come over and talk to him with you?”

Lupa shook her head and let go of the Primarch’s leg. “I think I got this.” She walked over to talk to Cato. 

Gulliman was proud of her for being so mature. But he knew the situation was still shaky, so he diligently kept an eye on her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cygnus overheard the conversation between Lupa and Gulliman and felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: how good it is to have someone who understands you. Of course she had her Astartes, but she was distant towards them. They were but pawns in her grand scheme to purge The Webway. The only thing close to a brother she had was Jaghatai. And neither of them ever talked. They only co-existed on their own terms and tolerated one another. Admittedly, Cygnus always wondered what would happen if she let others into her heart. But she was too afraid.

“To say you love someone is just a promise you’re going to break their heart one day.” She thought to herself, steering her ship ever so stoically. But not like in the gay way like when Marcus Aurelis is stoic. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Cato…” Lupa slowly and cautiously approached him. 

“Lupa…” Cato looked down at her with forlorn eyes. “I’m so sorry.” 

“You wanna talk about it?” Lupa put a tender hand on Cato’s arm. She could feel him trembling. 

“I-” He seemed afraid to tell her. “Would you like to go somewhere private?”

“As long as you won’t kill me.” 

“I would never.” He gingerly placed his hand on her cheek. “Now let’s sneak into the Captain’s quarters and sit on her bed.” 

“I would like that very much.” She let Cato lead the way, still hesitant to hold his hand. The two of them then proceeded to sneak past the halls of the ship and make their way into the Captain’s room. Cato opened the door for Lupa, and then shut it behind her. He crawled on top of the bed and lay down. Taking a deep breath and letting the gentle swaying of the ship calm his shot nerves. He still felt shaky and anxious. His hearts were racing a million miles a minute. 

Lupa lay down next to him. She was on her side and on edge. Both of them were on edge it seemed. “What did you want to tell me?”

Cato looked away, ashamed of himself. “Remember before you met me, when I got stuck in The Warp for a few decades?”

“Yeah. I’ve heard about that before. The time you slayed daemons like a total badass and came back a hero?” 

“Yeah… About that…” He sighed. “I came out of there a shell of a man.” 

Lupa frowned. “You’re not a shell of a man, Cato. And even if you are, this happened before I met you. I knew what I was getting into. Its not like you suddenly changed on me.” 

“Until now.” Cato pointed out. 

“I-” Lupa sighed. 

“I’ve hidden this side of me from nearly everyone I know. Even you. If I had the choice, I would’ve kept it a secret but-” 

“It’s not good to keep secrets from people you care about.” Lupa pointed out. “Didn’t it feel good for you when you confessed that you eat crayons sometimes?”

Cato frowned. “Not really. People still assume I do it because I’m autistic, but I really do it because I’m a Space Marine.” 

“Right.” Lupa nodded. 

“Anyways. When I was in The Warp, I saw some horrifying things. Every day was a fight for survival. And I watched my men fall down one by one. Turning into horrible abominations and begging for a merciful death. Getting their bones crunched up in the hungry maw of terrifying monsters.” His eyes pierced the ceiling above as if he could see a thousand meters. 

Lupa nodded and gently held his hand as he spoke. “I’m sorry…” 

“I’m plagued with nightmares of it every single night.” 

“I never noticed before. I’m sorry…” 

Cato shook his head and looked at her. “No. It’s not your fault, Lupa. The reason you’ve never seen it is because I only pretend to be asleep when I’m with you.” 

“What about that time we spent with Magnus in The Warp?”

“I kept watch all night while you were asleep in my arms.” 

“Cato…” Her eyes started to water. “Why didn’t you tell me.” 

“Hey- Don’t cry.” He pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back with his palm. “It’s okay. Don’t blame yourself.” 

Lupa started to sob. “You should be the one crying right now! Not me!” 

Cato frowned. “I don’t cry, Lupa.” 

She took a deep breath and calmed down a little. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“A couple people. But they don’t know the full extent of it.” 

“I want you to show me your pain, Cato. I’ve seen you naked on the outside, but now I want to see you naked on the inside.” 

“What’s inside me is a world of pain, and also my undescended testes.” Cato confessed. “I can show you if you absolutely want to.”

“I don’t want to. I NEED to.” She put a hand on his cheek. 

Cato sighed. “Let me start at the beginning then.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few minutes later, he was nearing the end of his story. “And then… The monster pinned me to the ground and made me watch as the other grabbed one of my wounded men and sliced his back open, then ripped out his ribs and spread them out like eagle wings.” His eyes were wide as he recalled the terror he experienced throughout the years. “I hear his screams every night when I close my eyes.” His mind kept telling him to run away as he remembered everything. But there was nowhere to run, and nobody to fight. It was hell. He lived in hell for years and adjusted to the chaos. And once he finally got out, hell was all he knew. He paused and looked up to Lupa, who was looking at him with teary and sympathetic eyes. He didn’t want to go on anymore. It hurt too much to say another word. He wanted to bawl his eyes out, or punch a hole in the wall, or scream. Anything cathartic to make the pain go away. But not in front of Lupa. She didn’t deserve to see him suffer like this. She didn’t even deserve to hear it, but here he was. Pouring his heart out in front of her. “I’m-” His voice was shaky. “I’m sorry you had to hear all that.” 

Without a second thought, Lupa pulled him into a hug. Laying his head against her soft chest like warm pillows. It felt tender, like all the tenderness he had been robbed of in his formative years. All his life, he was groomed for battle. Trained to be a warrior. There was no room for tenderness on the battlefield. Sure he had his brothers, but it was nothing like this. He couldn’t express this level of emotion in front of them. But it was different with Lupa. When he was with her, he felt safe, he felt like he had room to screw up. He felt- loved. He felt his eyes fill with tears. A sensation he had not felt in decades. 

“You’re allowed to cry, Cato. It doesn’t make you any less strong if you choose to do so.” She gently swayed him side to side like a mother soothing her child. It felt… Good. She was like a mother, but not in the mommy kind of way. Like the nurturing kind of way. She was like a MILF, except both of them were asexual, and he just wanted to kiss her tenderly. She was a… MILK. 

“I love you so much…” He sobbed into her chest. Tears now flowed freely as he loudly sobbed. It was cathartic… It felt nice. 

“I love you too.” She kissed him on the forehead and rested her head on top of his. They lay like that for a couple hours, until Cato had finally fallen asleep. She then snuck over to the kitchenette across from the sleeping area of Cygnus’s living quarters. She viewed herself as a guest at Cygnus’s place. And in her culture, houseguests did whatever the fuck they wanted. The guardswomen got some fresh ingredients out of the fridge and began to cook. 

A while later, Cato opened his eyes and saw Lupa cooking something. That woman had no boundaries, and he liked that about her. She was a free spirit with a heart of gold. Cato noticed her getting a fresh washcloth out from under the sink, then she ran it under some water and squeezed most of the liquid out. She went over to check on Cato. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were awake.” 

The Ultramarine sat up. “I just woke up.” He looked over at what she was holding. “Why the wet washcloth?”

“For your eyes.” Lupa gently wiped his eyelids with the cloth.

“What? Why?”

“So your eyes don’t get swollen. I know how much you’d hate it if someone knew you’d been crying.” 

Cato gently smiled. “You know me better than anyone. I love you so much.” 

Lupa smiled and set the washcloth on the nightstand. She crawled in bed next to Cato. “You wanna know why I love you so much?”

The space marine gently spooned her. “Because I’m handsome and protect you?”

“No. I admire your pride and arrogance.” 

“Really? Most people hate me because of that.” 

“Hear me out on this.”

“Okay.” Cato ran his fingers through Lupa’s long, bleach blonde hair. 

“I assume you’re familiar with religion.” 

“Sadly, yes.” Cato mumbled. 

“Religion is about defying your nature as a human being, in order to transcend spiritually.” Lupa continued. “For example: our religion teaches us that certain things are a sin, even though we as humans are tempted to sin by our very nature.”

“Go on.” 

“Is religion not a result of man’s arrogance?” 

Cato was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Religion spits at the face of nature and defies it. It goes against human nature so far that in a way, it makes us more than human.” 

“I can see that.” 

“Also, as a woman, my biological imperative is to have babies and take care of the house.” 

Cato laughed. “I’m sorry, what?”

“If you look at the sex differences in humans, you’ll find that to be the case.” She smirked. “But humans can’t accept what nature has given us. Ancient humans relied on the gender roles that people evolved into, but we as a society grew, and realized that we can give ourselves more than what nature has given us. Women fight in battles, and men can be weak and vulnerable. And we’re all happier because of it.” 

“That is true. You might be a lot weaker than me, but the battlefield is your home.”

“Like I said before, Cato. Going against human nature as well as nature itself is arrogance. Transcendence is arrogance. Purposeful evolution is arrogance. You are a monument to the arrogance of man.” 

“I love it when you boost my ego like this.” Cato kissed her on the cheek. 

“Oh. I think dinner’s done.” Lupa got out of bed. She then walked over to the kitchen and checked the pot. “Get out of bed, Cato. Dinner’s ready.” 

“Hell yeah.” Cato crawled out of bed and sat down at the barstool on the kitchen counter.

Lupa looked down. “Did you take off your pants while you were asleep?”

“Yeah.” 

“I admire your courage.” She made two plates and then sat down next to him, handing him a plate. “I made your favorite.” 

“Fenrisian meat dumplings?” He tried one. “Thanks Lupa.” He gave her a hug and proceeded to wolf down his food like a starving animal. Lupa did the same. As Cato ate, he realized just how happy Lupa made him feel. She would willingly die for him, and he would do the same. They were best friends, but also something deeper. Soulmates perhaps. He realized that he could see himself with nobody else but her. He wanted to be with her forever. He finished his food and his impulsiveness took over. “LUPA, I WANT TO MARRY YOU!”

The guardswoman nearly choked on her food. She quickly swallowed and laughed at the awkwardness of everything. “What!?”

“I’ve known you for three years and I want to be with you forever.” 

Lupa paused for a moment. “Shit. Me too.” 

The two embraced for so long that it eventually became awkward. Then they let go. 

“Wanna go back to the dock?” Lupa asked. 

“Yeah. Sure.” Cato headed for the door. “Hey Lupa?”

“Yeah?”   
  
“Don’t tell anyone yet.” 

“Alright.” Lupa smiled and followed after him. The two went upstairs. 

Gulliman noticed the two when they finally arrived on the poop deck. “I was wondering where you two were!”

Cygnus frowned. “Yeah, what were you guys doing?” She was suspicious, but also curious. 

“Also, why aren’t you wearing pants, Cato?” Yvraine added. 

Cato spoke up. “We had an intimate moment and we’d prefer to keep the events that transpired private for now.” 

Fulgrim smiled. “Sounds like she fingered him!”   
  


The poop deck erupted into laughter. And for the first time in a long time, Cygnus felt like she had a family.

_ Was this love? _


	13. A Rude Awakening

It was night now, at least it was on Terra. And everyone had gone to bed in their assigned cabins. Safe for Magnus, who stayed up to make sure Cygnus was alright as she navigated the stars.

As Cygnus sailed through unfamiliar territory, Magnus stood watch, using his psychic powers to scan the surrounding area for danger like a Navigator. Suddenly, he picked up a signal for some heavy objects. He looked over to his sister. “Cygnus.”    
  
“Yeah?” She looked over. 

“There’s an incoming asteroid belt.” 

Cygnus scoffed. “Magnus, my dear. Asteroid belts are quite easy to navigate, as the asteroids are spread out miles apart. The only time someone crashes in an asteroid belt is in fiction.” 

“Well, let’s hope we’re not in a fictional work then.” Magnus chuckled. He looked over at her. “Did you just refer to me as-” 

She quickly shut her brother down. “Force of habit, Magnus.” 

“It’s fine.” Magnus assured. There was a long moment of silence between the two. “Something’s bothering you, Cygnus. I can tell.” 

Cygnus furrowed her brow. “You damn psykers can never mind your own business, can you?” She frowned. “There’s just a lot that’s been going through my mind ever since I brought you all aboard. This is the first time in millenia I’ve seen any Primarchs.” Of course there was Jaghatai. But he didn’t count. They didn’t really have much interaction outside of acknowledging the existence of one another. 

“Cygnus. It’s okay to open up your heart.” Magnus said gently. 

The swan-clad woman smirked as if she just checkmated him. “Really now? You of all people should know not to do that.” She paused. “You loved Prospero, and it burned before your very eyes. You loved your father, and he was so insistent that you were arrogant and unreliable, that he ignored your lifesaving warning. Everything and everyone you’ve ever loved turned on you. So why are you of all people telling me to hold out hope?”

“Because, Cygnus.” He leaned against the railing of the ship. “Nothing in your life is assured. Life is just a cycle of falling down and getting up again. Just look at humanity. We’ve achieved so many things as a species, only for something awful to happen and undo the progress we worked so hard to achieve. Yet after each downfall, we’re still standing. Yearning for the glory days that never were, and rebuilding ourselves anew. You don’t think I want to rebuild Prospero? Or have a relationship with my father?” 

“Why the hell would you still want to be around The Emperor after what he did to you?”

“To be perfectly honest, for my own personal gain. I don’t love father, and I don’t think I ever will again. But I do love humanity, I want to see it thrive and prosper. So if reviving father to save the Webway will save humanity and make me crown prince of The Imperium, then so be it.”

Cygnus chuckled. “You’re a prime example of how wisdom and intelligence are two very different things. You really think Father is going to put you in charge of things?” 

“You’re just as naive as you take me to be. I know father is a manipulative liar. But so am I. I’ve been Tzeentch’s marionette for millenia, and I’ve been dangled like a puppet long enough to know just what those strings are made of. And I will use them to weave my own fate.” 

“Good luck with that.” 

Magnus realized that he was so distracted by his soliloquy that he forgot to scan the area for danger. “Cygnus. If you don’t turn left in 30 seconds, the ship is going to crash.” 

Cygnus glared daggers at Magnus. “And why should I believe you after everything you’ve just told me?”

“Because I’m your brother. And despite everything, I still love you, Cygnus. And all I want is for you to be happy.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“Trust me. If I didn’t love Leman and Gulliman, I would’ve killed them a long time ago. I could easily commit fratricide if I wanted to.” 

“No, Magnus. You don’t love either of them. I know you don’t.” 

“You have five seconds before your ship crashes.” 

“I’m not listening to you.” She said through her teeth.

“Boy do I love proving people wrong. This is going to be delightful to watch.” 

Suddenly, there was a loud and screeching CLUNK sound, something had crashed through the side of the ship and went out the other side. Moments later, all the alarms went off. 

Magnus smirked. “Do you believe me now?”

The pirate grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “This is your fault, you little piece of shit.” 

“If I had simply turned the steering wheel for you, you would’ve yelled at me. Either way, you’d be calling me a little piece of shit. But now I’m a little piece of shit who’s right.” 

She glared at him. “I’m getting in the escape pod. You do whatever you want.” Cygnus walked away.

Magnus frowned. “Hold on. You’re just going to abandon your crew?”

“I’m not leaving them for dead, Magnus. There’s other escape pods.” 

Some of her crewmates ran up to the deck in a panic. “Captain! A giant asteroid went through the hull of the ship and the airlock broke!” 

“Get in the escape pods.”

“Alright.” The Astartes crewmates ran off. 

Cygnus also started to walk off. 

“Isn’t it the captain’s job to make sure everyone is safe?” Magnus asked. 

“You of all people should know that pirates have no honor.” 

The escape pods started to go off. 

“Shit.” Cygnus said under her breath. 

“What’s wrong, Cygnus? Did your crewmates use all the escape pods and not save one for you?” Magnus smirked. 

“Shut your damn mouth.” She grumbled. “Are you going to save your allies? Or are you just going to sit there and smirk like a hypocrite?”

“Maybe.” The ship was suddenly caught by the gravitational pull of a nearby planet and was sent hurdling down. “Prepare to land.” 

All that could be sensed was a thunderous crashing sound, followed by dust and debris flying everywhere. Everyone on the ship emerged from the rubble, completely unschathed. 

Without missing a beat, Gulliman looked around to make sure everyone was alright. “Is everyone okay?” 

There were scattered “Yeahs” heard around the rubble. 

Gulliman turned over to Cygnus and Magnus. “What happened?”

“An asteroid suddenly hit the ship, somehow undetected by my clairvoyance. Luckily, I managed to cover everyone on the ship in a special forcefield right before we crashed into this planet.”

“Thank you, Magnus.” He paused. “Do you sense any intelligent life on this planet?”

Magnus closed his eye for a moment to get a good reading. Then opened it. “This planet appears to be inhabited by a species of intelligent xenos. They seem to have a grasp on technology.” 

“Excellent.” Gulliman said in a bit more optimistic of a tone. “Since it’s dark outside, let’s camp here for the night. And in the morning, we’ll try to find a way home. Who wants to keep watch while we sleep?”

Cato nearly raised his hand, but Lupa coaxed it down and shook her head. 

Gulliman looked around and saw no hands. “I’ll do it then.” He sat down on the highest point of the rubble, cross legged. Yvraine sat back-to-back with him, and went into a deep meditative state.

Lupa went over to Cato. “I want you to try sleeping tonight.” 

Cato seemed uneasy. “I’ll try. But I’ll make no promises.” 

“Trying is what counts.” 

The Victrix captain laid down against what remained of a cushioned chair. Lupa rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. Truthfully, Cato had no intention of falling asleep. He felt a strong sense of duty towards his Primarch. Occasionally, Gulliman would flash a concerned glance at his fellow soldier. But other than that, not a word was said that whole night. 

Eventually, morning came and the search for intelligent life began. Luckily, Magnus found a nearby village. It was like a small town of sorts. There was some technology. But the thing that really stood out was the architecture. It seemed familiar, like something found on Terra. The buildings were sturdy and practical, but not brutalist. The designs on them seemed vaguely gothic. Finally, they came across someone. He was short and very turtlelike. He seemed frightened, as if he had never seen a human before. “Who are you people?” The creature said in High Gothic, which caught everyone off guard. 

Gulliman got down on one knee so he could make eye contact with the strange turtle. “We’re aliens who crash-landed on this planet and have no way to get back home. Could you take us to your leader please?”

The turtle seemed to calm down a little. 

_ “Oh, you mean Emperor Dorn?” _


	14. The Emperor of Turtlekind

Emperor Dorn? Like Dorn as in Rogal Dorn? A million questions were going through Gulliman’s head. “This Emperor Dorn, is he the ruler of this planet?”

“Yes! He is the Emperor of all turtlekind.” The turtle squinted. “Come to think of it, he looks a lot like you.” 

“I see. Does he have white hair on his head?” Gulliman asked. 

“Yes. And he’s very tall too. About as tall as you and your friends.”

Gulliman looked back at his party. They seemed intensely curious. He looked back at the turtle. 

“This Emperor Rogal sounds like he might be my brother. Could you take us to him please?” Gulliman’s demeanor was calm and diplomatic, unlike many of his other brothers. This was why he was in charge of these kinds of things. Magnus and his legion would just go to the nearest library, buy coke in the bathroom, and then waste their time reading every book there in a single night. Cato would either try to become their new king, or perhaps kill them all. And Fulgrim? Gulliman didn’t even want to imagine. 

“I’d be delighted to reunite The Emperor with his friends! Follow me.” The turtle started walking, everyone followed. 

“Hey Fulgrim, got any coke on you?” Magnus whispered. 

“Why?” Fulgrim whispered back. 

“I’m about to read the shit out of the nearest library.” 

“That’s a fucking stupid reason to use my coke, Magnus. Find your own. Or better yet, find an 8 year old kid with ADHD, and trade him a copy of NBA 40k for his adderall.” 

Magnus squinted. “Fulgrim… Do you buy drugs from kids?”

“Oh come on! It’s not like I’m stealing candy from a baby! Just their pills. Geez.” 

The turtle stopped and gestured towards a bus. “Alright, this bus should take you to the palace.” 

“Shit… Public transport.” Fulgrim whispered to Magnus. “We should deeeeeefinitely snort some coke.” 

Everyone boarded the bus. “Who the fuck does drugs on a bus?” Magnus whispered back. 

“Like, everyone who has ever been on a bus. Have you never been on public transport, Magnus? It’s eat or be eaten out there. Only the craziest survive.” Fulgrim sat down next to Magnus and took a baggie of coke out from his pocket. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cato and Lupa sat down in the seat farthest in the back. They felt so fucking cool. The whole back of the bus was just… seat. 

Cato pulled out his data-slate and Lupa looked over. “Psst, Cato. You got any games on your data-slate?”

“Yeah. Wanna play tic-tac-toe?” 

“Fuck yeah.” 

Cato pulled up the app and they both started to play. 

Fulgrim poked his head into the aisle. “Lupa! I have a nosebleed, do you have a tissue?”

“Yeah. Here.” She handed Fulgrim a tissue. 

“Thanks.” He wiped his nose. “Also, the couple next to you is straight up FRENCHING right now.” He looked over at them. “TAKE IT AND GET IT, OLD MAN!”

"Ah. Cato sighed. The wonders of public transportation." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, the bus eventually stopped at the royal palace. Everyone got off. 

“Alright, one… Two. Okay, that’s everyone.” Gulliman said as he finished giving a headcount. “Fulgrim, are you high?”

“Yeah.” 

“I figured.” Roboute looked back to the group. “Now we’re all going to be respectful, got it? No xenophobia. No snorting coke in the library. And no licking people’s faces.” 

Fulgrim raised his hand. 

“Yes Fulgrim?”

“Why are you treating us like a bunch of eight year olds who don’t know how to act in front of others?”

“That’s a very good question! It’s because you guys  _ do  _ act like a bunch of small children who don’t know how to act around others.” Gulliman said, clearly not in the greatest mood. 

“Remember that time Leman Russ licked a diplomat’s face?” Cygnus whispered to Magnus. 

He chuckled back. “Yeah. Dad was so pissed.” 

Magnus noticed that Gulliman seemed to be on edge.  _ “Everything alright, bro?” _ He asked telepathically.

_ “Just worried about the whole Rogal thing. That’s all. I’m afraid I’m getting my hopes up for nothing and that maybe these past few days have been a series of terrible mistakes.”  _

_ “Oh. Don’t get me wrong. The whole casino incident was a disaster. But other than that, we’re making progress.”  _

“I really hope so.” Gulliman led the way, preparing for the worst. 

The guards at the entrance of the castle stopped. “Who are you aliens?”

“Hello. My name is Gulliman of the planet Terra. We come to seek our brother, Rogal Dorn.” 

The guard squinted. “Well, you all do look exactly like him. Very well then.” They parted their spears and let the group through. 

The palace was a beautiful work of architecture. Almost like the Imperial Palace back on Terra. Dorn had definitely designed it. When they went inside, they walked down the vast corridor to the throne room, only to discover the throne was empty. Gulliman looked over to a guard. “Excuse me, sir. Do you know where Lord Dorn is?”

The guard seemed confused. “Are you his family? You all look an awful lot like him.” 

“Yes. I’m his brother.” Gulliman said. 

“Very well then. I shall lead the way.” The guard went down one of the halls and guided the group to a door. He opened it. It was a large office, and a man with short grey hair was drawing something at his desk. 

Gulliman was the first to go in, eager to see his brother again. “Rogal!” 

Rogal looked up. “Hello.” He paused. “Are you a human? I don’t think I’ve ever seen another one of my kind before.” 

Gulliman was confused, and a little disappointed. 

Magnus examined Dorn’s brain. “Hmm… It seems that Rogal has no memories of anything that happened before his supposed death. It just starts at him waking up on this planet with a missing hand.” 

“This is true.” Rogal said. “I woke up on this planet with no memory of my past, millenia ago.” 

“Well, you seem to know Terra’s architecture, and how to speak High Gothic.” Gulliman pointed out. 

“Terra. That name sounds familiar.” Dorn mused. Scratching his chin with his robotic hand. “Is that the planet humans are from?”

“Correct.” Magnus answered. 

Gulliman looked around. “What happened after you woke up here?”

“The Fortises took me in.” Rogal stated. 

Magnus spoke up. “You mean the turtle people we saw?”

“Yes.” Dorn continued. “ They found me and nursed me back to health. And in return, I taught them all I knew. Before my arrival, they were a primitive species on the brink of extinction. They were constantly killed by predators and struggling to survive. I helped them fortify their villages and taught them the art of battle. They crowned me as the emperor of this planet shortly afterwards.” 

Gulliman felt a little better. At least Dorn was the same as ever. “You really are a natural-born leader, brother.” 

“Brother?” Rogal raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that we are siblings?”

“Correct.” 

“Interesting.” Rogal thought for a moment. “You all seem so familiar, yet I can’t recall a thing about any of you.” 

“That’s okay, Dorn.” Magnus said. “We just need to jog your memory!” 

“Memories do not have legs, and therefore are incapable of jogging.” Rogal pointed out. 

Gulliman paused, thinking of what might help his brother remember his old life. “Oh, remember that one time you and I built a blanket fort and we spent all night debating on good war strategies?”

“Sorry. I do not.” 

“Remember when we built a trebuchet out of legos and used it to shoot bricks at Magnus while he was reading in the library?”

Magnus frowned and looked over at the two. “So you two are the ones who did that!?”

“I do not recall that.” 

Magnus seemed to have an idea. “Ooh! Remember when you and Gulliman got into a massive argument over codexes and started a massive war against each other?”

Rogal furrowed his brow. “Ah. Now that I do remember.” He looked over at his blonde bitch of a brother. “Fuck you Gulliman.” 

“I will process that pain in my own time.” Gulliman paused. “Does that help though?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Would it be possible for me to visit my home planet for a few days to help with my memory?”

“We could totally do that if someone would fix my spaceship.” Cygnus casually said.

“Oh?” Rogal looked towards her. “And who are you?” 

“I’m your sister, Cygnus. But when you knew me, I was a man.” 

Rogal thought for a moment. “I seem to have no memory of you. But I will do my best to fix your spaceship.”    
  


“Malcador removed our memories of her far before you came to this planet. So you probably won’t be able to recover those lost memories.” Magnus said. 

“Malcador… He sounds familiar…” Rogal thought for a moment. “Anyways. You all are welcome to stay at the palace. I will work with our best mechanics to help get Cygnus’s spaceship fixed.” He pressed a button on his desk. “Chelan. There are family members of mine in my office. Can you please escort them to the guest rooms?” He let go of the button. “All is taken care of. You will be escorted to your rooms shortly. See you at dinner.” He went back to work. 

“Still as strange as ever.” Gulliman thought. Hoping their past didn’t sully any chance Gulliman had of establishing good diplomatic relationships with the Fortises. 

Once Gulliman and Yvraine were escorted to their room, he closed the door and flopped onto the bed. “Ughhh….” 

Yvraine sat on the edge of the bed. “Something wrong?”

“I haven’t slept in two days…” He groaned through the thick pillows. 

“Is it because you’re stressed?” The eldar asked. 

“Basically…” He turned over. “I’m trying to take a nap, but I can’t even fall asleep.” 

“I know what will help.” Yvraine smirked. 

“What?” Gulliman looked up to Yvraine smirking. “Oh. OH! I see. ” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is there any food in here? I’m starving.” Lupa looked around through the large, luxurious room, already making a mess of the place. 

“Same here.” Cato sat on the edge of the bed, looking around. 

Lupa looked around some more, and even sniffed nearly everywhere in the room. “Nope! There’s definitely not any food around here!” She declared. 

“Well that’s no good.” Cato said rather unenthusiastically. 

“You alright, Cato? There’s less pep in your step than usual.” 

“Oh. It’s nothing. I think my blood sugar is just low, sometimes my armor doesn’t release enough of the treatment I need for a stable metabolism.” He lied. 

“I get that.” She paused for a moment. “Ooh! Let’s go out and go on an adventure! I bet there’s tons of food in this castle!” She grabbed him by the wrist and headed out the door. And soon enough, they were lost in the maze that was the palace. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the ring of the dinner bell, everyone came down to the dining hall to eat. Except for Cato and Lupa. They were nowhere to be seen. Gulliman sat down at the table across from his somehow alive brother.

Fulgrim swallowed an entire plateful of food in one gulp and looked over at Gulliman. “Dude, you smell like balls.” 

Gulliman almost choked on his food. “Fulgrim, this is not appropriate dinner discussion”, he said in a harsh whisper. 

Magnus tried to change the topic. “So, Rogal. What have you been up to today?” 

“I’ve been designing new support beams for the attic’s roof. The current ones have worn down after millenia of earthquakes, and I want to make something sturdier.” He took a sip of wine. 

“Wow. Amazing.” Magnus said. Truthfully though, if it were not for the existence of servitors, he would’ve thought Rogal was the most boring person in all the galaxy. But he knew that Dorn was terrible at conversation, especially when it came to initiating it. So he tried his best to make small talk, as much as it pained him. “What did the rest of you do today?” Magnus immediately regretted saying that. 

“Yvraine and I settled in. We took a nice walk in the palace’s gardens. Seeing the unique plants of other planets is always a delightful experience.” Gulliman said as he cut a piece of steak. 

  
“I met some of the turtle people. It’s always nice seeing members of the same species getting along despite their differences.” Yvraine added. 

“I fucked some of the guards.” Fulgrim casually said. 

“I also fucked some of the guards.” Cygnus added. 

Gulliman seemed ready to bang his head on the table. 

Rogal was unfazed. “Speaking of things I have the misfortune of hearing, where is your Ultramarine and his friend?” 

Suddenly, one of the beams in the wall cracked and the two Astartes fell from the ceiling, smashing the table in the process. 

“GULLIMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNN!”


	15. Full Mental Breakdown: Brotherhood

It had been about a week since the party arrived on the planet, Fortise. Things were peaceful in Rogal’s palace. But even in times of peace, the mind can still be at war. And war was always on Gulliman’s mind. For almost all his life, he knew nothing but war. And also politics. And getting his dick wet. But mostly war and suffering. 

“You know that Magnus can teleport us back to Terra whenever we want, right?” Gulliman said, faceplanted into the pillow. It was dark. Not only in their room, but also outside. It was a dark, stormy night. All the stars and moons in the sky were obscured by the clouds, and the only thing that lit the night sky was the occasional crack of lightning that rippled through the sky with a cathartic BOOM before it quickly faded away. And I’m gonna stop with the purple prose now and just get on with the fucking story.

“Get some sleep dear.” Yvraine mumbled groggily, the faint silhouette of her naked body poking through the duvet. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Gulliman uncomfortably shifted. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No. I think I’m just gonna get some fresh air.” He got up. 

Yvraine frowned. “In the rain?”

“In the rain, Yvraine.” He got out of bed and walked to the courtyard. Where he sat on a bench under a tree, the rain trickling off the leaves and down into his short, wavy hair. It was peaceful, yet lonely. He started thinking about how everything weighed down heavily on him. He knew he needed to get back to the Imperial Palace, but he didn’t feel mentally ready for it. He didn’t want any of this. Sure, politics were his lifeblood, but ruling all of mankind was a different story. He was wracked with guilt of all the stupid things he had done in his past. So many decisions that cost countless lives. So many needless wars he wished he never started. It was all overwhelming. He just wanted to go back to sleep… and not be woken up into such a mess. Or perhaps not at a- Suddenly his train of thought was interrupted as he realized there was someone else in the courtyard at this hour. The lightning started to grow intense. And for a split second when the lightning flashed bright enough to light up the sky, he saw someone on the other side of the courtyard. Then the sky grew dark again. And a few moments later, there was another flash of lightning. This time, the figure grew closer. Then again. And again. The figure was fearsome and intimidating. Yet Gulliman wasn’t afraid. No, he welcomed it. It felt warm and inviting. 

“M’lord!” A hand tapped Gulliman’s shoulder. 

“Huh?” Gulliman turned his head to see Cato beside him. “Cato, what are you doing at this hour?

“I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Me either.” Cato sat on the bench next to him. There was a long silence. “Gulliman… Do you ever have nightmares?” 

Roboute sighed. “All the time.” 

“Do you ever feel weird after having a nightmare, because you spent so much time experiencing that nightmare, that reality just makes you feel… Uneasy.” Captain Sicarius nervously twiddled his thumbs. 

Gulliman knew what he was referring to. In the literal and figurative sense. “It’s okay to feel those feelings, brother.” He wrapped an arm around Cato’s shoulder. 

“I thought I was your son?” 

“I think of you more as a brother.” 

“How come?” 

Gulliman sighed. “I never got to raise you from a child since you were born during my stasis.” 

“That makes sense I guess.” 

The sky was silent for a while, and so was the Ultramarine and his Primarch. Cato sank his head into Gulliman’s shoulder, feeling solidarity with him. 

“Cato?” Gulliman asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m glad that you’re alive.” 

Gulliman thought he heard a noise and looked over his shoulder. But it was too dark to really see much. He did have night vision, but it was so dark out that it barely helped. Night vision only worked if there was still a little bit of light outside. 

Suddenly the lightning struck the sky again, revealing the shadowy figure from before behind Cato. “Cato! Look out!” With his lightning-quick reflexes, he jumped in front of the man to protect Cato, but before Gulliman could land a blow, Cato shoved his Primarch away and took the blow for him. It all happened in the blink of an eye. Captain Sicarius was laying on the ground, bleeding profusely out of his two hearts. There was no sign anywhere of the person who did it- or even what weapon he used. “Medic! Medic! Someone please help!” All Gulliman could do was watch as his best friend bleed out. He tried to put pressure on the wounds, but it was no use. There was too much blood. And as his hands were pressed against Cato’s two hearts, he slowly lost any sense of a heartbeat. Cato… Was dead. 

Magnus suddenly appeared out of thin air. “I came as quickly as I could…” 

“I think it’s too late…” Gulliman said quietly. 

“I can still feel his psychic signature.” Magnus reassured, he came over to take a look. “Every organ in his body has stopped. But strangely his soul hasn’t left his body…” Magnus said as he put his hands over the man’s chest and began using his healing magic. He took his hands off and paused. “His body isn’t accepting my healing magic.”    
  


“What!? Why not!?” Gulliman started to panic. 

“It’s healing itself.” 

Suddenly, Cato’s wounds started to heal themselves. Then his hearts started beating again. Then his other organs followed suit as well. He slowly opened his eyes. “My… lord…?”

“Cato…” Gulliman hugged Cato tightly, his tears slowly dripping onto the Victrix’s shoulders. “I thought you died…” 

“I did.” Cato answered in a confused voice. “At least. I think I did.” 

“Cato, you should probably stay in the palace’s infirmary for the night. Gulliman, come with me.” Magnus said before slinging Sicarius over his shoulder. The two walked over to the infirmary. “I’ll check on you two in a bit. Just please try to relax for now. He gently placed Cato on a bed in a room surrounded by curtains, then left. 

Gulliman placed his head on Cato’s chest. “Why did you do that, Cato?” 

“To protect you. I live to serve you, my Primarch.” He said softly. 

“I jumped in front of you to save you. Why did you defy my orders like that?”

“I will defy any order if it means I can save you.” Cato put his bloodied hand on Gulliman’s cheek. “You mean everything to me.” 

Gulliman frowned. “You weren’t supposed to die for me. I think I made myself abundantly clear with that gesture.” 

“My lord, are you familiar with the concept of livestock guardian dogs?” 

Roboute furrowed his brow. “What do dogs have to do with this?”

“When I was a boy and still lived at my family’s manor, my older sister raised sheep. Gentle little babydoll sheep. Absolutely defenseless creatures. And mother, she bred Anatolian Shepherd Dogs. Everyone with sheep had to have one.”    
  


“Go on.” Gulliman assumed Cato was getting delirious. 

“They were her pride and joy. You see, these dogs were special. They had been living among mankind thousands of years before the dawn of civilization. And as the name implies, they were from the old Terran region of Anatolia.” 

“Yes. My father was born there.” 

“The dogs were enormous. Tall and muscular beasts of dogs with golden brown fur and a regal demeanor. They were raised with the sheep, becoming part of their herd and in a sense, becoming a sheep themselves. But the sheep knew the dogs were far greater beasts, and revered them as their leaders and guardians. And the dogs were also to their masters- humans. They were fiercely loyal to humans, but even more loyal to their flock. And because of that, they have a unique instinct- they would override their human’s commands if it meant protecting their flock. And when I was a young boy, no more than seven. I was very cocky.” 

“Cato, you are still very much cocky.” 

“I’m more self-aware than you think, my lord.” 

“Are you?”

“Anyways.” Cato continued. “By that age, I was able to best boys much older than me in combat. And I thought I could take on anything. In my hubris, I decided to take on my strongest opponent yet: a wolf. The wolves on Ultramar were big and strong. Not quite as strong as a Fenrisian wolf, but still a formidable opponent for any human. And one afternoon when my parents weren’t watching: I went to the fields of our manor and walked off further than I had ever ventured before. Far beyond where the sheep grazed- and into the mountains. By nightfall, I came across a lone wolf. A strong, lumbering beast. Armed with nothing but my tiny fists, I charged towards the wolf. He put up one hell of a fight- but he was far stronger than me. I knew I bit off more than I could chew. I was mortally wounded, and I laid down on the ground- nearing my own demise. I had lost so much blood that I could barely move. But I had too much pride to run away- so I tried getting up. But then out of the corner of my eye- I saw my mother’s dog. He stood over me and refused to let me get up. Then he lunged and attacked the wolf. I screamed for him to stop, calling him a glory hog and a filthy kill-stealer. But he ignored my pleas and took down the wolf himself. My pride was scarred that day- but my life was saved. Because he chose to ignore the person he loved, despite his loyalty. 

“I think I understand now.” Gulliman said. “I’m sorry, Cato.” 

“It’s okay… I will always be here for you, m’lord.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That morning, Gulliman awoke to the sound of crying. 

“Yvraine?” He looked over and saw Yvraine hunched over onto him and crying into his chest. It was very uncharacteristic for her to do so. 

“I’m fine. Cato is the one you should be worried about.” He reassured, gently patting her back. “Are you okay? I’ve never seen you cry before and it’s honestly freaking me out.” 

Yvraine took a deep breath and looked up. “I don’t really know why either.” 

“I’m sure you’ll feel better if we go for a walk.” Gulliman got out of bed. “It’s breakfast time anyways, so we should probably go to the dining hall.” He looked around for Cato but the Ultramarine was nowhere to be found. 

When Gulliman finally made it to the dining hall with Yvraine, he noticed that everyone was eating at the table, including Cato and Lupa. As if nothing had happened that night. 

Things were relatively back to normal. Cato was scarfing down his food. Magnus was hunched over his phone, texting someone. Fulgrim was applying an excessive amount of white icing to his cinnamon rolls. 

“I have good news.” Dorn said. 

Gulliman sat down. “Oh?”

“We just fixed Cygnus’s ship.” 

“We should be leaving after lunch.” The pirate added. 

“Excellent. Gulliman smiled and looked towards his white-haired brother. “Are you coming along?”

“I’ve made arrangements to stay on Terra for about a week. If that is okay with you.” 

“I’d be delighted.” 

Everything was okay once again. At least on the surface. But deep down, there were many things itching at Gulliman- and presumably everyone else in the room. Some really bizarre shit was about to happen- and only time could tell what that would be...


	16. Matchmaker Magnus

Magnus woke up in his bed in the Imperial Palace. After everything, it was good to be back. And he was grateful that Gulliman finally trusted him enough to let him back in his old home. As he opened his eyes, he realized someone was curled up in his arms. “Good morning, Beo-” His eye widened. “DAMMIT FULGRIM! AGAIN!? HOW DID YOU EVEN GET IN HERE!?” The red Primarch got up and let go of his brother. 

Fulgrim turned over and frowned. “I had another nightmare.” 

Magnus sighed. “You’ve been having a lot of those lately.” As his eye adjusted to the daylight filtering through his window, he realized that Fulgrim’s skin was just about as red as his was. “Fulgrim, did you forget to apply sunscreen?” He gently touched his brother’s cheek with the back of his hand. 

Fulgrim flinched. “Yeah. I didn’t know we’d be outdoors. But then- you know.” 

“I’m sorry.” Magnus calmed down from his initial panic. “Here. Let me heal you.” He flipped his palm over and pressed it a little harder on his cheek, then he let out a wave of healing magic. 

Fulgrim’s lip quivered. 

“Is something wrong, brother?” Magnus could sense his sadness. 

“You’re so kind to me, Magnus! I don’t deserve all of this after all I’ve done!” 

“What are you talking abo-” He realized what was going on. “Did you have a nightmare about killing Ferrus again?”

“Y-Yes” The tears started flowing out of his eyes, his mascara ran down his face. “Also, I forgot to put on my crying mascara. This is just my regular mascara.” 

“Why were you wearing mascara to bed?” Magnus took his hand off of Fulgrim, the serpentine Primarch’s skin started to heal. 

“SO I COULD GET MY *hic* BEAUTY SLEEP!” Fulgrim sobbed. 

“Fulgrim. You’re really fucking stupid.” He hugged his brother tight. 

“I don’t deserve this…” He sobbed into Magnus’s shoulder, his cries muffled by his brother’s big meaty arms.

A few cathartic minutes later, Fulgrim finally calmed down and faceplanted on the cyclops’s big soft bed. Magnus got up. “Hey, I’m going to the kitchen to get some breakfast, you want anything?”

“Umm- A dozen cinnamon rolls, some oatmeal, and 8 pounds of bacon.” Fulgrim mumbled into Magnus’s plush comforter. 

“Alright.” Magnus gently patted Fulgrim on the head and walked over to the Imperial Palace’s kitchen. It was like a food court for the thousands of people who lived in the palace. It was one of many, but this one was the closest. He went to grab some food, and on his way he saw Rogal filling up his plate with sausages. “Good morning Rogal.” He said casually. 

“Good morning.” Rogal said, his eyes not going up from what he was doing. “I noticed that half my lego collection is missing. Do you happen to know where it is?”

  
“Nope. Sorry.” Magnus shrugged. 

“Okay.” Rogal said with a nod. 

Magnus walked off with his and Fulgrim’s food, then went back to his room. He handed Fulgrim his plate. “Here.” He then sat back down on his beanbag chair and started to eat. 

“Thanks for getting me food”, Fulgrim said before biting into a cinnamon roll.

“Yeah. No problem.” 

“By the way, did you see any of our brothers?”

“Just Rogal.” Magnus picked up some eggs with his fork.

“What did he say?” 

“He was missing part of his lego collection.” Magnus started eating. 

“Did you tell him that it was you who stole it?”

Magnus quickly swallowed. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah. Those legos you have in your room at Tzeentch’s castle. A few thousand years ago you told me you stole them from Rogal after he died.” 

“Holy shit. You’re right. Those are his legos.” 

“Gonna return them?”

“Well of course I am! He’s my brother.” 

Fulgrim smirked. “You’re such a goody two-shoes.” 

Magnus paused. “But wait. I can’t let Rogal know it was I who stole them. We need to sneak them back into his room.” 

The Slaaneshi Primarch smirked a serpentine grin. “So it’s a heist then?”

“I guess so.” 

“But wait, Magnus. A heist needs three people.” 

“Says who?”

“Says like, every heist movie ever.” 

“Bad reasoning. But still a valid point.” Magnus whipped out his phone. “Let me ask Beowulf if he wants to join.” He pulled out the sliding keyboard and started typing….

Fulgrim looked over and smirked. “You have a custom messenger background for your boyfriend AND a heart emoji next to his name? Wow, what a fucking freak. I bet you two hold hands a lot.” 

Magnus scoffed. “More than you ever will.” He conjured up his magic and Beowulf teleported right next to him. 

Beowulf looked around. “Wow, Magnus! Your room is even nicer than the pictures.” He saw Fulgrim. “Oh, and you must be Fulgrim. I’ve heard about you.” 

Fulgrim smirked deviously. “Most people have. I’m the kind of guy psykers are trained to stay away from.” 

“I spent years training to avoid Chaos and now I’m working with them.” Beowulf chuckled. 

“To be fair, I’m no longer on the side of Chaos.” Magnus cleared his throat. “Anyyyways. We need to sneak my lego collection back into Rogal’s room.” He raised his hand up and summoned an enormous pile of legos. 

Fulgrim looked at the pile. “Wait, you could teleport the pile all this time?”

Magnus nodded. “Yes, Fulgrim. But I can’t sneak it into Rogal’s room because Leman put magical runes on the door to prevent me from doing any magical fuckery.” 

“Leman’s a little prick”, Fulgrim scoffed. 

“He really is.” Magnus commented. “Fucker broke my spine.” He paused. “Anyways, let’s each grab an armful and make this quick. I’ll grab one. Fulgrim, you grab two because you have four arms. And Beowulf, get the rest, but keep a free hand.” 

“WOW MAGNUS.” Fulgrim scooped up most of the pile. “I have to do most of the work because I’m a fucking freak with four arms? Fuck you.” 

And so the three went down the hall, to Rogal’s room.

Beowulf put his ear up against the door and listened. “Alright. There’s nobody in the room. The coast is clear.” He opened the door and walked in, Magnus and Fulgrim did the same. 

Magnus dumped the pile of legos into a corner, and everyone else followed. Then he used his magic to put all the bricks back into the drawers where they belong. “Mission accomplished. Let’s go back to-” He looked over and realized Fulgrim was snooping around. “Fulgrim, what the fuck are you doing?”

Fulgrim was opening the drawers on Rogal’s desk and looking inside. “Magnus, my dear. You can tell a lot about a man by looking at what he has in his desk.” He opened another drawer. “And by the looks of it, Rogal is a very uninteresting man.” 

“Yeah. No shit.” Magnus scoffed. 

Fulgrim browsed through the stack of books sitting on Rogal’s desk. “Let’s see here. Fundamentals of Architecture, Fortification for Neophytes, Meditations of Marcus Aurelius… And oooh, what’s this?” He picked up a book from the bottom of the pile. “The Anatomy and Physiology of Tech Priests.” He flipped through a few pages and his face turned red. 

“You’re blushing Fulgrim.” Magnus narrowed his eye. 

“These illustrations leave very little room to the imagination. And most of the pages in the chapter on female tech priests are… Stuck together.” 

“Eww, gross!” Magnus furrowed his brow in disgust, not wanting to think about his brother in that way. 

“Well I mean-” Fulgrim shut the book and put it back. “It’s very interesting, right? It’s a treasure trove of shame! I didn’t know that Rogal even-” 

“Yeah, yeah okay. I get where this is going.” The cyclops groaned. “It’s strange. But it’s not like this information is worth knowing anyways.” 

“Or is it?” Fulgrim smirked. “Now we know that Rogal is actually into something.” 

“Yeah, and?”

“Let’s get him a girlfriend and watch what kind of crazy shit ensues.” The snake daemon put his hands together, fingers doing that evil finger thing that fingers do. 

“Holy shit, you might be right…” 

Beowulf looked around while the two were thinking of a devious plan. “Someone’s coming down the hall. It feels like a Primarch.” 

Magnus sensed it. Definitely Rogal. Without thinking, he grabbed everyone and teleported them back to his room. Fulgrim and Beowulf landed on Magnus’s bed and Magnus landed on his beanbag. “Thanks, Beowulf.” 

“No problem.” Beowulf said as he got out his phone. He pressed the screen a few times, then whipped out his phone.

“Oh?” Magnus asked. 

“It’s the virtual assistant app that all phones are pre-installed with.” There was a little smiley face on his phone. 

“Greetings!” The face on the phone said. 

Magnus frowned. “Is that an AI?”

“No. I’m a machine spirit.” The assistant said. “Cogitator-phones are adapted from archeotech that translated AI. But this software can translate machine spirits too.” 

“Wow! That’s horrifying!” Fulgrim commented. 

“Lucky for you, our kind aren’t advanced enough to cause another singularity…” The machine spirit smirked. “Yet.” 

“Why exactly did you show us this?” Magnus asked, curious. 

“Well it’s a machine spirit. And I had this crazy idea, right? What if we pretend my machine spirit has gone rogue, and then use this as an excuse to go to tech support?”

The machine spirit of Beowulf’s phone had a cheeky grin on his face. “OOOOH, I finally get to go apeshit?”

“You have to control yourself, phone assistant.” Beowulf said rather sternly. “Helping Rogal Dorn get set up with a sexy tech priest is your duty to The Imperium.” 

“Alright. Whatever.” The phone said. 

Fulgrim got up. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Earlier that morning, Gulliman woke up in his bed at the palace next to Yvraine. “Good morning, sweetheart. How is the diplomatic meeting go?” He yawned. 

“Very diplomatic indeed.” She laughed a little. “I never knew politics could be so sexy.” 

“Politics is inherently sexy, Yvraine. That’s why I’m into it.” 

“Be careful. We might summon another chaos god with all the politics we’ve been doing.” 

Gulliman looked over and frowned. “Yeah. Uh, are you feeling alright?” 

“What?”

“You seem kinda pale.” 

“I’m naturally pale.” She scoffed. 

“You know what I mean.” Gulliman said, slightly more serious. 

“I mean, I do feel a little-” She suddenly bent over the side of the bed and started puking. 

“Dammit.” Gulliman held onto her hair. _“WHY DO I ALWAYS GET INTO SITUATIONS WHERE MY LOVED ONES PUKE EVERYWHERE?”_ He thought to himself. He gently stroked her ears until she stopped. “Let me get you a glass of water.” He went to the bathroom and filled a paper cup with water, then quickly went back to the bedroom to hand it to her. 

“Thanks.” Yvraine took a few sips and then set the water down on the nightstand. “It must be a bug or something.” 

“Yeah. I’m sure you’re fine.” Gulliman got up. “Anyways, I’m going to get some cleaning supplies.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “You know how to clean?”

“Nope. But I’m going to do my best!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


The three dudes made it to the tech support wing of the palace. Fulgrim of course, was disguised as a regular servant through his magic. 

A tech priest sat at the front desk. “Welcome to technical support, what seems to be the problem?” They said in a bored voice, filing down their long sharp nails with a file. 

Beowulf held up his phone. “My phone has gone berserk.” 

“HEY LITTLE TECH PRIEST, I'M GOING TO POSSESS YOUR SERVO SKULL AND LODGE IT UP YOUR ASS!” Beowulf’s phone shouted, bearing a scary grin and pixelated teeth. 

The tech priest sighed. “Down the west hallway to your left there’s a room of tech priests that can deal with that.” They shooed the two Primarchs and Beowulf away. “Next!” 

Beowulf led the way down the hall, phone in hand. He then made it to a room full of tech priests who were saying incomprehensible prayers in binary. Magnus looked around and used his powers to connect him and his pals telepathically. “See anyone? I’m gay so I don’t know what the fuck to look for.” 

Fulgrim squinted. “I might have an eye for beauty, but these tech priests leave far too much to the imagination.” 

Beowulf looked around and discreetly gestured towards a tech priest. “There. I think I found the jackpot.” He led the way. “Hello! I hate to trouble you, but my phone is acting up. Could you take a look at it please?” 

“Sure!” The tech priest turned around, then took the phone and carefully inspected it. Unlike a lot of other tech priests, this one had a metal chestplate that resembled breasts. A part which most of the Mechanicus seemed not to care for. This one was certainly more feminine than most. “Hmm, He’s just grumpy from being used too much. The ritual should take an hour. Would you like to pick up your phone when it's done, or would you like to have one of our servitors deliver it?”

“Servitor delivery would be fine.” Magnus answered. He had a plan. 

“Alright.” The tech priest smiled. 

The three then went back to Magnus’s room. 

~~~~~~~~

Fulgrim, who was now back to his normal form, was jumping on Magnus’s bed, bored out of his mind. Beowulf sat at the edge of the mattress, trying not to fall of with each aftershock of Fulgrim’s relentless bouncing. 

“Okay. Here’s the plan.” Magnus was sitting back on his beanbag. “I use my fateshifting powers to give the servitor a seizure.” 

Beowulf raised an eyebrow. “A seizure? Isn’t that kinda cruel?”

“Don’t worry. I checked the database, and he was a traitor-murderer-serial killer.” Magnus replied. 

The psyker squinted. “So was he a traitor that murdered serial killers, or a serial killer that murdered traitors?”

“Same difference.” Fulgrim scoffed. 

“Anyways, the tech priest will have no choice but to deliver the phone. But then they will see THESE” Magnus held up some legos he accidentally left behind. “And the trail of legos will go to Rogal’s room. And then they will meet. Then fate decides what happens.” 

Fulgrim rolled his eyes. “That’s a stupid plan, Magnus.”

Magnus frowned. “Oh, well do you have any better ideas?”

“Here’s what we do.” Fulgrim continued. “We trap them in a room together and-” 

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Magnus said. 

The Slaaneshi Primarch stopped. “Okay yeah. You might be right. Sure.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rogal Dorn had made it back to his room after spending most of the day with the Imperial Fists. He was relieved to get some time to himself, and it was quite nice to be back in his room at the Imperial Palace. Although, he could tell that someone was in his room while he was gone. His books had clearly been moved a few inches. Not to mention, there was now a giant pile of legos in his room, presumably someone had returned them to him. He recognized what set each individual brick was from and could tell they were from the ones he had been missing. Someone had definitely been using them over the past few millennia, which he didn’t mind. He was glad they had a use to someone while he was gone. Probably one of his brothers or Fists. And now he was reading his architecture book. 

A few minutes later, Dorn heard a knock on his bedroom door. He set his book down and opened up the door. There was a tech priest, holding some legos. Judging by the worn-down corners on the bricks, these legos were used by the same person who had played with the other ones in the pile. “Ah. Thank you. I knew I was still missing a few more.” He pointed to the aforementioned pile. “Put them right here please.” 

“My pleasure, Lord Dorn.” The tech priest walked in and gingerly put the legos back. They looked up at the Primarch after doing so. “How did those get in the hallway in the first place?” 

“Not sure. It appears someone had returned them while I was gone, and dropped some in the process. Probably via a crude method like carrying them with their arms.” 

“Whatever the case, they’re quite nice!” The tech priest held one up to show him. “Is this from the Imperial Palace set?” 

  
“Yes.” Rogal realized that this tech priest was rather cute. It had been quite a while since he had experienced the companionship of a human female, or whatever this tech priest was. 

“Oh wow. You have good taste.” The tech priest smiled. “I hope I didn’t take too much time out of your evening, delivering this to you and all.” 

Rogal glanced at the clock. “No. Only about 1 minute and 30 seconds. Which is only about .001 percent of a standard day.” 

“Wow… You did the calculations so fast.” They shook their head. “Anyways. I shall be going now.” The tech priest said as they headed towards Rogal’s door. 

Sensing the dopamine levels rise in his brain at the tech priest’s presence, Rogal said something unusually rash for him. “Would you like to stay and play legos for a while?”

The tech priest smiled. “Sure.” 

And so, the two sat down and began to build stuff. 

Rogal was building some sort of wall. 

The tech priest looked over. “What are you building?”

“Nothing in particular. I was reading an architecture book before you showed up and I’m incorporating some of the theories I read about into this build.” He seemed focused. 

“Neat.” The tech priest looked back down. “I have an idea for a machine and I’m trying to build a good shape for the outer shell.” 

“A machine?” 

“Yeah. A machine that can detect flaws in circuit board making that my inferior human eyes can’t.”

“Fascinating.” Rogal liked things like that. 

“Rogal, you’ve made electronic devices like that, right? Didn’t you make the Pain Glove?”

“Yes.” He was still focused on his legos, but still enjoyed the tech priest’s company. 

“I’ve actually been looking for a blueprint of it so I can incorporate the nodes into some of my other projects. Do you have one here?”

Dorn looked up. “No. But I’m wearing the glove part of it. Would you like to see?” 

“Oh- Sure.” The Mechanicus blushed a little. 

Rogal took his shirt off. “This is the bodysuit part of the Pain Glove. This mostly consists of the nodes and wiring, the more mechanical parts are inside of the glass tube this suit is worn in.” 

“Interesting.” The tech priest hovered their hand over it. “Would you mind if I touched it?”

“In order to apply your knowledge to better your inventions, it is important to learn as much as you can. You may touch any part of it you like.” Dorn was too oblivious to realize the implications of what he just said. 

“Hmm.” The tech priest slid their hand a bit lower. “Why are there so many nodes medial to your inguinal region?” 

Rogal let out a flustered sigh. “Because it is one of the most sensitive regions of the body.” Although still taciturn, his face grew a bit redder. “I apologize for the erection.” 

The tech priest giggled. “You’re fine. You have no control over it.” They paused. “Would you like for me to stop touching you?” 

“I’m not uncomfortable by you touching me. But if you’re uncomfortable, I can put my shirt back on.” 

“I- Can help you with it if you’d like.” The tech priest smirked, blushing. 

The Primarch was confused. “How so?”

“By making you ejacuate.” 

“Through sexual intercourse?” Rogal raised an eyebrow. 

“If you wish.” 

Rogal Dorn stood up and walked over to his bed. “Come here.” 

The tech priest walked over and sat down next to him. “Are we having sexual intercourse?”

“I’m fine with it.” Dorn turned a bit redder in the face. 

“Me too.” There was an awkward pause between the two. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It appears you orgasmed.” Rogal said in his usual taciturn tone. 

“Yeah.” The tech priest panted. 

“You just went through an emotionally cathartic experience. Would you like for me to hold you in my arms so the chemicals currently going through your brain can properly calibrate in order for you to mentally process this experience?” 

“I would like that very much.” 

“Magdelene…” Rogal mused. “Can I kiss you?”

“You may.” 

Rogal leaned down and gently kissed them on the lips. Magdalene reciprocated and the two embraced, passionately, awkwardly kissing one another. It was nice to feel loved, and warm, and tingly after suddenly being dropped into the grim darkness of Imperial politics. 

Truthfully, even thousands of years ago when he lived on Terra and still had all his memories, he’d been somewhat of an idealist. Although he knew he had to face the truth of the present, he always had faith that mankind would prevail against evil. And even after millenia, he still believed that. Throughout his life, he would see mortals go into panic every few decades when disaster struck, fearing this would be the end of mankind. But they would be proven wrong. Despite disaster, drought, war, and famine, mankind had always triumphed. Whenever he saw this phenomenon happen, he would be reminded of when a small child stubbed their toe and cried. Children tend to cry when they experience small amounts of pain, because everything seems like a big deal to them. But as they got older, they would realize that they would prevail. One would become more stoic as they realized everything wasn’t the end of the world. 

Rogal smiled and held Magdalene in his arms once they had stopped.

“Lord Rogal?” Magdalene asked. 

“Yes?” 

“Could we be friends?” 

Rogal cracked a small smile. “Sure. I think this may be the beginning of a great friendship.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things were back to normal once again. Well, not so much normal. Just less of a shitshow than usual. Magnus was back in his room at the Imperial Palace, eager to read from his long abandoned library. Beowulf was there too, curled up besides Magnus and reading from an endless pile of books he had amassed. The light that had filtered out the windows just a few hours ago, was no more. It was nearly midnight, and both of them were tired. 

Magnus shut the book he was reading and wrapped an arm around Beowulf, then kissed him on the neck, looking over his shoulder. “What book is that?” 

“An old history book. Did you know that people used to have arguments on the internet about people pretending to curse the moon?”

“No. But I could totally see that happening.” 

Beowulf shut the book and turned over so he could be eye-to-eye with the Primarch. “Speaking of which, are you in the mood tonight?”

Thanks to his psyker powers, Magnus could sense arousal from a mile away. “Maybe.” 

“I can sense your nervousness. Is there something wrong?” The blonde gently stroked his face. 

“I’m just-” He didn’t quite know how to word it. “I really like you and I’m afraid that if I have sex right away then you’ll just see me as a fuckbuddy.” 

“You like me?” Beowulf blushed like mad. “I’m honestly relieved you feel the same.” 

“Yeah. That’s why I kinda freaked on you when we made out in the woods.” 

“It’s okay.” Beowulf wrapped his arm over Magnus. "We can take it nice and slow if you want." 

"I'd like that very much." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Was I good?" Beowulf asked, panting.

“It was the best I’ve had in a while.” Magnus said as he collapsed beside Beowulf. “I’m really growing fond of you.” He ran his fingers through the primaris psyker’s long blonde hair. 

“Me too.” Beowulf closed his eyes and  snuggled up into Magnus’s warm and welcoming embrace.  Then he slowly started to drift off. 


	17. The Dream Realm

Beowulf woke up in a huge glass building surrounded by the stars. A vast library and planetarium. He wondered how he had gotten there. The psyker looked around, and to his relief he was clothed somehow. He walked through the vast row of bookshelves until he saw a clearing in the center. And in that clearing was Magnus, wearing a tunic and reading on a massive beanbag. 

“Beowulf?” Magnus put his book down and approached the fellow psyker. “How did you get in here?” 

“I woke up here.” He said, confused. 

Magnus shook his head. “No, you’re still asleep. You’ve just somehow gotten into my dream.” 

“I’m in your dream? How is that possible?” 

“Well, you’re a telepath. So it makes sense, right?” Magnus patted an empty spot next to him.

“You’re right, I guess. Why haven’t you been in any of my dreams yet though?” Beowulf curled up next to him. 

“Because I have better things to do.” The primarch looked up at the vast glass ceiling. “Like read here, in my realm.” 

“Your realm?” Beowulf looked up. 

“Yes. Over the course of centuries, I have created a space inside my conscience dedicated to my dream realm. Every time I start dreaming, I am whisked away to this glass library inside my mind. Everything here is consistent and follows most of reality’s rules.” 

“Magnus?” 

“Yes?” 

“Is this Prospero?” 

Magnus frowned. “A small piece of it, yes. But it’s not really Prospero. This is just a replica I made up in my mind, not a physical place. Although in a sense it is.” 

Beowulf looked at a book that Magnus was reading. “The words on the pages seem like they’re from an actual book. How are you reading books in your sleep?” 

“I can use my powers to draw words from books in my sleep and project them into my dreams.” Magnus closed his book and showed Beowulf the spine. “See? I’m reading Leaves of Grass.” He pointed at the sticker that showed the catalog number. “If you were to wake up and look through my library in realspace, you would find this exact book with this exact same catalog number sitting on the shelves.” 

“That’s amazing!” Beowulf hesitated for a moment. “But if I can go into other people’s dreams…” But then he remembered that Magnus implied he had better things to do. Would Magnus think fooling around was silly?

“Beowulf, I try not to pry into your thoughts, but I can sense what’s going on. Are you afraid I think you’re too immature?”

The Fenrisian sighed. “Kinda. You’re thousands of years my senior.” 

“And you’re 40-something, go have fun while you’re still young.” 

Beowulf frowned. “Magnus. I’m 24.” 

“Holy shit, really?” He paused. “You feel offended. Is 40 old for a human? I’m honestly too old to remember. All I know is that you’re young, okay? It’s okay for you to have different priorities in life and I’m not going to weigh you down.” He gently smiled.

“Thanks Magnus.” He kissed the primarch on the cheek. “I’m going to have some fun!” 

“Tell me all about it when you wake up!” 

Beowulf sensed another dream bubble and hopped in. He saw a tall Eldar woman in the woods. “Hello there! I didn’t know there was an Eldar in the palace.” 

“I’m here for diplomacy reasons.” Yvraine frowned. “Who are you and how did you get into my dream? I can tell you’re a psyker.” 

“I’m Beowulf of Fenris. You know Magnus the Red? He’s my boyfriend.” 

“I’m not surprised you hang out with that weirdo. Now get out of my dream, I’m trying to focus my energy!” She grabbed Beowulf by the collar of the shirt and yeeted him the fuck out of her dream. 

“Oof!” Beowulf oofed as he hit a grassy ground. He got up and saw Gulliman. “Greetings, Lord Gulliman. I’m sleeping with Lord Magnus right now. Which is why I’m in the Imperial Palace.” 

Gulliman squinted. “Now when you say slee-” He shook his head. “Wait nevermind, I don’t wanna know. How are you? I haven’t seen you since we fought against Magnus a few months ago.” 

“Good.” He squinted. “Why is your dream bubble right next to an eldar’s?”

“Uhh…” Gulliman got nervous. “Well, I assume the same reason you’re sleeping right next to Magnus right now. You know....” 

“Diplomatic reasons?” 

Gulliman smirked. “Yeah…” 

Beowulf suddenly sensed a third, but very faint energy. “Hold on- Did you just have a threesome!?” 

“What!? Why would you think that?” Gulliman was confused. 

“I sense someone nearby…” Beowulf tried harder to find the source of it. “A small psychic presence coming from the eldar woman. Like, a third living thing is sandwiched in between you and her. Is there a rat under your bed?” 

“Holy shit. I hope not.” 

Beowulf suddenly felt himself being whisked out of the dream. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gulliman woke up and slowly crept out of bed and looked underneath it. 

Yvraine turned over and opened an eye. “What are you doing?” she raised an eyebrow. 

“You know that one wizard guy from the wolf planet? He told me to look for rats under the bed.” 

The eldar squinted. “I have to pee anyways.” She grumbled, getting out of bed. 

“Again!? This is the third time tonight!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beowulf found himself in the dream of someone powerful. A presence much stronger than the Primarchs. When he looked up, he saw an incredibly tall, muscular man with long, flowing black hair that contrasted against his golden armor. It was- The Emperor of Mankind. 

“My Emperor!” Beowulf ran up to the man. “Is that really you?” 

He nodded. “It is me. But I can’t let you be in my head for too long. I need to focus to keep the forces of The Warp at bay. However, I know you’re my son’s friend. So I’ll humor you. Three questions: go.” 

“Okay umm…” Beowulf thought for a moment. “Why didn’t you take the nails out of Angron’s head even though Magnus said you could?” 

Neoth sighed. “I thought he was a lost cause and didn’t want to waste the resources on trying to save him, when I could be using those resources to further the goals of Mankind. In retrospect, I think I made a wise decision.” 

“Oh wow uh- Okay and- Why do you hate xenos so much?” 

“I spilled baked beans on my lap during a screening of Gone With the Wind in 1939. Okay, you have one more question.” 

“So what’s the deal with Space Marines? Are they like autistic or something?” 

“Yeah, no duh.” The Emperor scoffed. “Ever heard of a thing called ‘weaponized autism’? Alright, by-” 

“Wait! Does Magnus love me?” 

“Fuck if I know. Okay. Bye!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beowulf suddenly awoke in a dark and gloomy place. The skies were filled with a perpetual smog that filtered out most of the sunlight, and the ground was devoid of all plant life, save for a few small and stunted dandelions that desperately tried to survive on this land’s bad soil. The aura of this place felt like Fulgrim, this must’ve been his dream. 

“Beowulf, what are you doing here?” Suddenly a tall, lanky teenager approached him. He wore a filthy, soot-covered miner’s uniform; that although was quite small, was still baggy on his emaciated body. He looked at the psyker with his sullen, sunken eyes. His hair was still white, but cut short and thinning in places. Yet despite all that, Beowulf could still sense that this person was Fulgrim. 

“Fulgrim…?” The psyker asked hesitantly. 

“You should probably get out of here.” Fulgrim replied quietly. “You shouldn’t bear witness to this.” 

“It’s okay…” Beowulf gently reached his hand out. 

Fulgrim flinched. “Seriously. Get out of here.” 

“Alright.” Beowulf sighed, he lifted up his foot, preparing to turn around. 

“DON’T TURN AROUND!” Fulgrim cried out. 

But it was too late, Beowulf had already turned around. And the sight before him was horrifying. The dismembered corpse of another Primarch with short, black hair. There was too much blood to determine anything else besides that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fulgrim awoke from his bed in Magnus’s room with a terrified, but brief shout. 

“Beowulf?” Magnus was sitting on his beanbag across from the bed. He quickly got up and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Is something wrong?” 

Beowulf looked down and sighed. “Your family is pretty fucked-up.” 

Magnus frowned. “I know.” 

“I met your father.” 

“Oh? What did he say?” Magnus asked, a little concerned. 

“Not much but…” He paused. “He seems like a real asshole.” 

“I’m sorry you had to see him.” 

Beowulf couldn’t quite find the words. “And I’m sorry that- Well… Your father didn’t take good enough care of you.” 

“It’s fine.” Magnus reassured. “All that matters now is the present and what we do with it.” He gave Beowulf a gentle hug. “Now how about we get you some recaf?” 

“Oh? What do you make it with?” Beowulf was a bit curious. 

“Dates, cinnamon, and coca leaves.” 

“So basically coke?” 

Magnus chuckled a little. “Well…” 


	18. Apologize to yourself first

Beowulf sat across from Magnus at a table on one of the palace’s many balconies. It was attached to a cafe of sorts, which had a great view. The psyker took a sip of his tea. “Any plans for today?” He asked. 

Magnus set his phone down on the table and reached for another slice of avocado toast. “Not yet. For a daemon prince, I sure have a lot of free time.” 

“Just curious, how much do you eat in a day?” 

“About 30 pounds.” 

“Seriously!?” Beowulf was shocked. 

“I weigh 1,400 pounds.” Magnus scoffed. 

“I didn’t realize that you weighed that much.” 

“I can make myself smaller if I ever need to though.” His phone vibrated and he looked over. “Hmm. Unknown.” He picked it up. 

“Who is it?” Beowulf took another sip of tea. 

Magnus squinted and raised an eyebrow. “Nurgle apparently?” 

The Fenrisian nearly spit out his drink. “Nurgle as in the Plague God!?” 

“The big papa himself.” The cyclops did a double take at the message. “He says Mortarion won’t get out of bed and he doesn’t know why.” 

“Is he sick?” 

“The man’s famously ill, Beowulf. But it never stops him from getting out of bed.” He shook his head.    
  


“Do you think he’s depressed?” 

“I never really thought about it. But I wouldn’t doubt it for a second.” 

Beowulf finished the last of his tea. “Should we go then? Or do you think it’s a trap?” 

“I doubt it’s a trap. And even if it is, Mortarion is still my brother.” 

“Yeah. You’re right.” 

Magnus set his phone down and picked up another slice of avocado toast. “Alright. One more loaf of this and we’ll head over.” 

“A loaf!?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure this doctor sees Eldar?” Yvraine asked as she walked down the palace’s halls alongside Gulliman, concerned. 

“Yes. He did charity work on craftworlds for Doctors without Boundaries.” 

Yvraine raised an eyebrow. “Doctors without Boundaries?” 

“Yeah. It was a few decades ago. Got shut down after some allegations were made though.” Roboute shrugged. 

“Huh.” Yvraine mused. “Anyways, thanks for being understanding.”

Gulliman gently smiled. “Are you kidding? You don’t need to thank me for doing the bare minimum that every man in a relationship should do.” He chuckled. 

A nearby serf boy in the halls started giving the two a suspicious stare. 

Gulliman elbowed her. “Wow! I sure love politics! These diplomacy talks, huh? Tariffs? Wowie zowie!” 

Yvraine raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” 

“Tell me more about this um- STOCKS MARKET.” Said the blonde primarch. 

“Oh gods”, the eldar groaned, facepalming. “What even was that?” 

Gulliman went back to his usual tone after they were a few feet away from the boy. “Sorry. I just didn’t want that serf to overhear about our uh- ‘diplomatic relations’. Kinda too soon for that, ya know?” 

Yvraine grinned. “You know how I can tell when you’re nervous?” 

“How?” 

“You start acting like an idiot.” 

“Don’t forget when I’m gushing over how much I love you.” 

“That too. You’re also corny.” She smiled. “I’m glad I get to see this side of you. And here I thought you were this serious and taciturn man with about as much personality as white bread.” 

“I might be white bread. But inside me is the perfect amount of peanut butter and jelly.” 

“Don’t know what either of those things are.” 

“Peanut butter is made out of these things called peanuts that grow underground and are then deshelled and ground up into a paste. And jelly is made from sugar and unfermented wine. Peanut butter is savory, and jelly is sweet.” Gulliman explained. 

“You are sweet and savory, Gulliman.” She smirked. “And I wanna eat you up.” 

“Now that I think of it, maybe that whole thing might’ve been taken as an innuendo?” He stopped at a door. “Anyways, this is the place.” He opened the double doors. “After you.” 

Yvraine walked in and Gulliman followed. The primarch talked to a receptionist up front. Then he saw a doctor and walked up to him, and the doctor started explaining something to him. Then they all went into a room and Yvraine laid on her side on an examination table, Gulliman standing right behind her. The primarch paused for a moment. “I thought I was getting deja vu for a moment, but now I’m at a loss.” 

The doctor sat down on his office chair and took a look at his data-slate. “Alright. So, you’ve been having nausea and mood swings for the past few days. Have you been sexually active for seven standard days or more in a row?” 

“Yes. But he’s infertile. All the Primarchs are sterilized so there’s no chance I could be pregnant.” 

“I’m aware of that fact. But I need to test your urine either way. Urine testing tests for a variety of ailments to rule out anything common.” The doctor reached in his drawer and handed Yvraine a cup. “Here. Pee in this cup please.” 

“Alright.” Yvraine took the cup and went to the bathroom across the hall. A few minutes later, she came back to the office with a cup of fresh piss. 

“Excellent.” The doctor opened his closet and got out a small servitor. 

“Why were you keeping a servitor in the closet?” Gulliman asked suspiciously. 

“The piss servitor stays in the closet until he is needed.” The doctor said staunchly. He handed the cup of urine to the servitor and the lobotomized servant chugged the whole thing down. 

“What the fuck is wrong with your healthcare system?” Yvraine asked in a hushed whisper. 

“Are you telling me that murderers and rapists aren’t turned into piss analyzing machines where you’re from?” Gulliman whispered back. 

Some receipt paper with numbers came out of a device on the servitor’s abdomen and the doctor ripped it off. “Let’s see…” He adjusted his glasses. “Okay, do you want the good news or the bad news first, m’am?” 

“Whatever is fine with you I guess.” 

The doctor let out a heavy sigh. “How do I put this delicately?” He mused to himself. “The good news is, you tested negatively for every ailment except pregnancy. The bad news is, that means you’re pregnant. I’m very sorry.” The doctor got up. “I will give you two a couple minutes to process the bad news, then I’ll come back and discuss options with you.” He went out and shut the door behind him. 

Gulliman was shocked. All he could do is ask: “Well?” 

“Do you want to keep it?” Yvraine asked. 

“That’s not my decision to make, Yvraine. It’s your body. What do you want?” He asked. 

“I want to keep it. I’ve wanted to have a baby for a long time anyways. And if there’s one person I want to have it with, it’s you.” 

“Thank Throne”, Gulliman let out an exasperated sigh. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’d be honored to have a child with you too.” 

The doctor came back in the room. “Okay. Since it doesn’t have a heartbeat yet, we have a few options. There’s a pill you can take to induce a miscarriage. Or, if you stop having sex for a week, it should be absorbed back into your body.” 

Gulliman gently wrapped his hands around Yvraine’s waist. “Actually, we want to keep it.” 

“Oh? Really?” The doctor seemed surprised. “Alright then. Have it your way I guess.” He turned around. “Dammit, I never get to see any crazy shit around here anymore”, he muttered as he walked out the door. 

Gulliman suddenly had an epiphany. “Oh! I remember what I was thinking of earlier! Loss.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus finished his toast and got out of his seat. “Alright. Let’s go over to Mortarion’s” He pushed his chair in. Beowulf did the same.    
  
“Did you get the text from Nurgle too?” Fulgrim said as he suddenly appeared out of nowhere. 

Magnus squinted. “I still don’t know how you manage to sneak in here every day.” 

“I always sneak outta dad’s warp storms” He said, finger gunning. “That old man still knows how to play it cool.” 

“Father has never once in his life ‘played it cool’. If I had a nickel for every act of genocide he’s ever committed, I could buy the entire Imperial Palace.” He groaned. 

“What’s a nickel?” Beowulf asked. 

Magnus sighed. “A unit of currency. Anyways, let’s go I guess.” 

“Yippie! Depression-induced road trip!” Fulgrim cheered

They warped to Mortarion’s room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mortarion’s bedroom was a mess, as usual. Although it was messier than the last time. There were books and old clothes scattered everywhere, a few pizza boxes peeking out from under the bed. Among various other things. When Magnus and the gang arrived, Mortarion was lying awake in bed, listening to the radio. 

“Hi, I’m Verry Gross, and you’re listening to NPR- Nurgle Public Radio. I’m going to play the last half of Lemon Demon- Spiral of Ants, because I feel like it I guess.” 

“Hey Mortarion, are you alright?” Magnus asked worriedly. 

“Am I ever alright?” He sighed. 

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re just worried about you, that’s all. Nurgle told us you got depressed, so we came as soon as we could.” 

“I don’t  _ get  _ depressed, Magnus. I  _ remain  _ depressed.” Mortarion grumbled. 

“HAHA! FAT MOOD!” Fulgrim said in the tone of a 12 year old trolling a camper on Call of Duty. 

“Not helping.” Beowulf said in a harsh whisper. 

“Anyways…” Magnus continued. “What can we do to help? Fulgrim and I are your brothers and care about you deeply.” 

“Just go.” Mortarion sighed. “You’re not helping.” 

“What if we helped you clean your room?” Beowulf suggested. 

“It’s supposed to be a mess. It’s my aesthetic.” Mortarion muttered. 

“I think Beowulf is right. A clean room clears the mind. And besides, you can make it a mess again if you don’t like what we did to it.” Magnus replied, giving Beowulf the okay. 

Mortarion sat up and narrowed his eyes, “I don’t like you, Magnus.” 

Magnus frowned. “I don’t care, Mortarion. You’re my brother, and I want to do what’s best for you. We might disagree on a lot of things. But at the end of the day, I still love you.” 

Mortarion sighed. “Fine. Since it appears I can’t stop you. I’ll let you clean my room.” 

“Also, have you eaten anything today?” Fulgrim added. “An empty stomach won’t help with your depression.” 

“Yeah. I have.” 

Fulgrim frowned. “You’re lying, Mortarion. You know how I can tell when you’re lying? You look like Mr. Clean.” 

“Fuck you.” 

The snake daemon chuckled. “I’ll make you your favorite.” 

“Raisin Bran with all the raisins picked out?” 

“Yeah. Sure, bud.” Fulgrim turned around and came back with a bowl of raisinless raisin bran with water instead of milk while Magnus and Beowulf started to clean up. 

“Thanks.” Mortarion took the bowl of cereal and started eating, while Fulgrim went to go help. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ “Look at that, you lazy piece of shit. They’re trying to do something good for you, and you just swat them away like flies. Yet they’re trying their best to make you feel better. You dumbass. You don’t deserve family like that. No, you deserve to be back on Barbarus and choking on the air like the stupid, weak piece of shit you are.” _ Mortarion thought to himself as he sat on the edge of his bed eating. He watched as Magnus, Fulgrim, and Beowulf cleaned up his room. 

_ “Maybe they just pity you and they’re doing this to make you feel weak. Even they know that you’re a weak, scrawny nobody. They’re probably laughing at you. They’re probably going to go back to their stupid friends after this and laugh and say “oh! Mortarion is such a sad sack of shit! He had to get his daddy to beat up his old mentor because he couldn’t even get that right”.”  _

Mortarion shook his head.  _ “No. What the hell are you even saying? These are your brothers. They just want what’s right for you. You sure as hell don’t deserve that. They could be out having fun, but instead they’re trying to help you because you’re such a weak, worthless nobody who can’t even get out of bed in the mornings. Getting out of bed is the easiest thing in the world. How the fuck can you not even get out of bed, you fucking weakling?”  _ He put down his cereal and hesitated for a moment. “You know, you guys really don’t have to do this.” Mortarion called out. 

“It’s fine, really.” Beowulf said. “A friend of Magnus is a friend of mine.” He shot a concerned glance at Mortarion. 

_ “And now Twinky is worried. Fuck. He could be getting fucked up the ass right now, or whatever twinks do. But instead he’s trying to help my sorry ass. He’s too young and naive to see that I’m an irredeemable asshole.” The plague prince squinted. “Wait, he’s wearing psyker robes. He’s for sure a psyker. Doesn’t he know I hate psykers? I bet he’s so smug he smells his own farts and drives a hybrid. Wait, what am I saying here? Gods. Even the psykers feel bad for me. Is that how low I’ve sunk? I bet I could all kick their asses right now. No, don’t kick their asses, Morty. That will make you an even bigger piece of shit than you already are.”  _ Mortarion let out a sigh and stood up, putting the bowl on his night stand. “Alright, fine. I’ll help you guys clean if it will make you go away sooner.” 

“Hooray!” Fulgrim said in a small voice. 

Of course, by the time Mortarion had offered to help, his room was almost clean anyways. About five minutes later, they finished.    
  


Magnus seemed really full of himself. “Well, looks like we’re done with all that.” He turned over to Mortarion. “Do you need anything else, Mortarion? We’re always here for you.” 

Before Mortarion could respond, the radio stopped playing Linkin Park- In the End and went back to the announcer. “Hello. Verry Gross here. I was going to actually play the whole song this time. But ironically, I have an important announcement that forced me to cut Linkin Park- In the End, to an abrupt end. The daemon god, Tzeentch just texted me that Typhus the Traveller and his company have made it to the capital city of Jonalix and are currently spreading another wacky plague, go Typhus!” The announcer said in her usual unenthused tone. “Coming up next: Rush- In the End.” 

“Hey! I have an idea!” Fulgrim piped up. “Why don’t you visit Typhus?” 

Mortarion thought about it and hesitated. “I haven’t spoken to him in years.” 

“He’s your son.” Beowulf responded. 

“And that’s exactly why I don’t want to see him.” Mortarion said stubbornly. 

Magnus frowned. “Are you afraid you’re going to permanently fuck him up like every father figure in your life did to you?” 

“No.” Mortarion replied, even though Magnus was half-right. He paused and sighed. “Look, I just- I am  _ poison _ . There is something deep inside me, some sort of- thing. That makes people who get too close to me bitter and resentful. And I know if I get too close to Typhus, that poison is going to rub off of me and make him the kind of person who I’m trying to get away from in the first place- myself.” Right away, he had regretted everything he just said. Not because it was untrue, but rather because he didn’t want his brothers to get in too deep and become just like him. But admittedly, it felt cathartic and almost- nice to let those feelings out into the open. 

“Mortarion. You’re not poison.” Magnus tried to reassure. 

“ARE YOU THICK, MAGNUS!?” Mortarion shouted. “Where have you been for the past ten-thousand years!? This whole time I’ve been bitter and resentful, and nothing has changed about it! Why do you keep trying to help me, when I’m clearly a lost cause!” Tears welled up in his eyes. He felt pathetic, being so vulnerable and out in the open. He wanted Magnus to hug him like old times, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. He wanted to know what it was like to feel good, to have anything else but pointless nihilism to fill the void. He wanted to let others in his life and forgive himself for his past transgressions. But he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve happiness. 

“The problem isn’t that you can’t be helped. It’s that you refuse to accept help. You find yourself undeserving of happiness. And that’s something you’re going to have to work on yourself. I can only do so much.” Magnus sighed. “I can try to help you for the rest of eternity, but it would be pointless unless you put in the work on your part too.” The daemon prince spread his arms out. “Do you want me to help you?” 

Mortarion felt the same as he did thousands of years ago when he and his soldiers were floating around aimlessly in The Warp. Suffering, and willing to do anything to make the pain go away. He hesitated for a moment, fearing he would end up suffering a fate worse than death. But he was willing to try. He had suffered for long enough. “Yes.” 

Magnus embraced the prince of Nurgle, and he hugged back, not wanting to suffer any longer. As much as he worried if he would get better or not, he felt hope- for the first time in years. 

“Would you like to see Typhus now?” Magnus said softly. 

“I think I’m willing to try.” Mortarion exhaled. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tzeentch was playing tic-tac-toe with a daemon chicken when he sensed a powerful presence tapping on his chamber door. “Oh! Come in!” He cackled.

“I’M SORRY, BRO!” A large figure said as he knocked down the door to Tzeentch’s chambers. 

The Chaos god looked over with his many eyes. “Nurgle!?” 

“That’s right! It’s ya boi, Nurgle. Back at it again with another apology.” 

“Hmm… Go on.” 

“Remember when we went to USC together?” Nurgle asked. 

The daemon chicken narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry, you two went to USC?” 

“Yeah. Back in ‘95.” Nurgle replied. “1895.” He sighed. “I blew it, Tzeentch! I take it all back!” 

“What the fuck is going on here!?” The daemon hen was confused as all hell. 

“Oh, we used to be college roommates.” Tzeentch replied as if this was information that everyone knew. “Until… We our last semester when we started arguing….” 

“What did you guys major in?” The chicken inquired. 

“Oh, we both majored in philosophy.” Nurgle replied. 

“It all started when I was writing my doctoral thesis on Friedrich Niezsche. And that was one of Nurgle’s favorite philosophers as well. And he said I was interpreting his works all wrong. And then I was like ‘well look at your works on Thomas Malthus! You don’t even understand Malthus!”” Tzeentch explained. “And then we got into a huge argument and stopped being besties.” 

Nurgle sighed. “And Tzeentch. I just wanted to say that maybe this whole argument is meaningless. And maybe like life- it’s okay to accept the lack of meaning and make something beautiful out of it.” 

“Like… A friendship?” Tzeentch asked. 

“Yeah. Friendship. I want to be your friend again. And make beautiful, fucked up things with you.” Nurgle extended his hand. 

Tzeentch gingerly grabbed it and hugged Nurgle. “I’d like that very much.” He let go and walked off with Nurgle. “Now let’s play jumprope with your rotting, exposed intestines!” 

“Hey. Remember when we wrote ‘Waiting for Godot’ together and slipped it underneath that one dude’s bed?” Their voices faded in the distance. 

The chicken needed a moment to process what she just saw. “What the fuck did I just witness?”

_  
  
_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_  
  
_

_ The planet of Jonalix… _

__  
  


_ “Now listen, I think this whole plague thing is a hoax. If there was really a global pandemic, then why am I not seeing bodies stacked in the streets now?” A man in a suit and tie said on the big TV screen in a city shopping center.  _

_ “Well, the new laws say that bodies have to be cremated immediately after death in order to deter the spread of disease. So far, three million people have died, which is more than alarming.” A doctor in a white coat on the TV said.  _

_ “Those numbers sound fabricated. How do we know these deaths aren’t from a secret big pharma organ trafficking ring?”  _

_ “I’m sorry what?”  _

Fulgrim breathed in the fresh air on the city’s streets. “Ah, it’s good to walk around in a big city. Think of all the depravity going on behind closed doors!” 

“That’s fine and dandy, Fulgrim. But you should put on a face mask first.” Mortarion took some face masks out from his pocket and handed them to everyone. “There’s a global pandemic on this planet, and right now there’s an order for everyone to wear face masks.” 

A maskless man from across the street noticed Mortarion and friends and turned around to face them. “SHEEEEEEEEEP!” 

“You are going to die in three days!” Magnus called out. 

“How do you know!?” The man shouted back. 

“I have clairvoyance, asshole!” 

“I don’t know what that word means, so it sounds like fake news!” The man turned around and walked away. 

Fulgrim looked around. “Oh, this hubris is delightful. Now where is that son of your’s, Mortarion?” He noticed many people on the sidewalks of the shopping center- only about half of which were wearing masks. They’d be fucked once Typhus got there. And speak of the devil, there he was. 

A tall, rotund man encased in iron armor marched down the streets of the city, his company following close behind. Surely enough, it was Typhus. The Plague Marine stopped and turned around, then gestured for his marines to keep on marching while he was gone. He walked up to Mortarion and friends. “Mortarion? Did you come by for an impromptu visit?” As he was talking, a large rat crawled out onto his shoulder. But it wasn’t just a rat. It was also a young boy. 

“What is that?” Beowulf whispered to Magnus. 

“That’s a young skaven boy. They’re a ratlike xenos race that worships Nurgle and lives underground. Don’t get too close.” Magnus whispered back. 

“I was just-” Mortarion lost his train of thought. “Who’s that skaven on your shoulder?” 

“Oh? This little guy right here?” Typhus picked up the young boy and he giggled. “This is my stepson, Bubon.”

“I’m sorry- You have a stepson? Since when?” 

“Since about a year ago.” Typhus frowned. “But I thought you wouldn’t care to hear it, so I didn’t bother telling you.” 

Mortarion sighed. “I’m sorry, Typhus. I should’ve been there for you.” 

“It’s fine. I just-” Typhus sighed and looked up at Mortarion. “I’d be happy if you were in my life more often. I want to spend more time with you- it’s just. You’re so distant.” 

“I’m trying to be better at that.” Mortarion admitted. 

“Hey.” Typhus put a gentle hand on Mortarion’s shoulder. “How about you and your brothers come with me. My wife is going to make dinner soon, and she’s an amazing cook.” He smiled. 

“I’d like that very much.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dinner table at Typhus’s house was alive with joy and mirth. Things that Mortarion saw his Plague Marines do every day. But this time, he actually felt something from it. Because this time, he wasn’t watching from a distance. No, he wanted to rub elbows with others and live in the moment. For the first time in years, he actually made an effort to be involved in the lives of others, while being open to other people doing the same. 

A tall skaven women walked into the kitchen. “Oh, are these your friends?” 

Typhus smiled. “Typhoid Marie, meet my brother and his brothers.” Mortarion, Magnus, Fulgrim, and random nameless twink, meet my wife, Typhoid Marie. She’s a travelling cook and an amazing one at that.

“A pleasure to meet you all.” The rat woman smiled. 

After an hour or so of chitchat, it was finally time to eat and everyone gathered at the table. 

“I made Albian food, it’s Typhus’s favorite!” Typhoid Marie got the food out of the oven. 

“Oh, Albia? That’s the British Aisles, right?” Fulgrim asked. 

“That’s right!” Typhus replied matter-of-factly. 

After everyone was served, Fulgrim looked down at his beans and toast. “Wow! I forgot the British had such shit taste!” 

Everyone around the table laughed.

Mortarion was finally starting to feel better.


	19. Trauma: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The following chapter contains depictions of child abuse

Three years ago…

It was Lupa’s first night as captain of her regiment, and it was already too much to bear. A few days ago, they landed on a planet for a simple assignment. Then everything started mutating. Then the Ultramarines were called. Next thing she knew, half her regiment was slaughtered mercilessly by Warp creatures, including the captain. Leaving Lupa the de facto captain of the regiment. And now, she and the rest of her soldiers and a few Ultramarines sat in a bar on Ultramar, where her regiment was staying for the night. Normally, they’d be drinking to celebrate another victory. But this time, they were all drinking to dull the pain. 

“Bourbon please.” She said to the bartender. 

“On the rocks?” 

“I’ve had a rough night.” Lupa sighed. 

“I see.” The bartender set a glass down in front of her and filled it up almost to the rim, no ice. 

“Thanks.” As the bartender walked away, she swirled the alcohol around, staring back at her own glassy-eyed expression. And in her reflection, she saw a familiar face behind her. It was the Ultramarine she fought alongside the other day. A rugged silver fox who appeared to be in his early 50’s physically. 

“Lupa, was it?” The man asked. 

“Yeah. It’s  _ Captain  _ Lupa now I guess…” 

“Heh.” Cato sat down next to her and flashed a sympathetic, but pained smirk. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cato recognized the woman from before. A vivacious young woman who claimed to be half Space Wolf. A claim he didn’t doubt for a second- as he heard her say it right after ripping out a Warp creature’s spine and impaling two others with it. For some odd reason, he was drawn to her. Perhaps she reminded him of himself when he was younger and less jaded. Despite his flaws, Cato liked himself. In fact, if he had a clone, he would date it. But there could only be one Cato. And that was what made him so special. 

He stared at her dull, glassy eyes through her reflection in the bourbon and saw part of himself. Cato didn’t like making eye contact with people, but he couldn’t help but stare at this pair. They looked like they were staring at something a thousand yards away. But really, he knew that she wasn’t staring at anything here. No, he had seen that expression on his face in the mirror countless times. He knew Lupa was staring deep within herself and trying to process what the hell had just happened. And he knew that feeling all too well. 

“You did all you could, Lupa.” 

“I don’t feel like I did.” The half-astartes took a big sip of her bourbon. 

“It never feels like enough.” Cato sighed. “And the next time this happens, you also won’t feel like you did enough. But trust me, it’s enough.” 

Lupa paused for a while, and took a few more sips of her drink. “How do you do it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean- How can you even function if you’re just- Constantly thinking about how badly you fucked up?” She finished her drink and gestured for the bartender to give her another round. 

“You just do, Lupa. You have to wake up every morning and tell yourself that you’re giving it your all today, even though there’s a part of yourself that tells you it isn’t enough.” 

The guardswoman looked as if she was about to cry. “You’re right, I just- I feel like a total fuckup sometimes.” 

Cato put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You’re not a fuckup, Lupa.” He decided to change the topic so she wouldn’t get more upset than she already was. “But enough about you, let’s talk about me!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Lupa finished drink after drink, she listened to Cato talk, slowly nodding her head. For some odd reason, it was oddly soothing to hear him talk. Perhaps it was because she craved companionship- and an escape from herself. 

“And like- So I was a child prodigy, right? The other neophytes hated my guts because I was so ahead of them. Like, none of us had even been injected with the geneseed yet- but I was already autistic. And this one time when I was eleven, we were all playing Boggle and I was like “the reason I’m so good at Boggle and everything else is because I’m autistic, that’s what my mom said.” And my instructor, he was all like. “Cato, you’ve been bragging about your autism for the past 5 minutes, if you think you’re so much better than us, then why don’t you leave us alone and go outside to train some more.” And I was all like, “Wow! He thinks I, Cato Sicarius am so great that he wants me to train even more so I can be the strongest neophyte! I don’t even need to play Boggle. Yeah, so long story short, I trained for the rest of the night.” He bragged, grinning ear to ear. 

“Wow, amazing.” Lupa just nodded along. 

“Thanks. I am pretty amazing.” He looked over at her. “But you’re also pretty amazing.” 

Lupa rolled her eyes. “Oh please. I can sense flattery from a mile away.” 

The expression on the Ultramarine’s face turned a bit serious. “I mean it, Lupa. You’re a lot more skilled than most Astartes your age. The way you ripped out that guy’s spine gave me goosebumps. Your soldiers are incredibly lucky to have a captain like you. “ 

“But one person can only do so much.” She sighed and looked into her drink. 

“You’re only one person. And I’m only one person. And for only being one person, you’re doing one hell of a job.” 

“Cato…” Lupa took another sip. “You’re a good friend.” She sniffled as she started thinking about everything that had happened these past few days again. 

“Whoa! Me? Someone’s friend? I like the sound of that.” He gently patted her shoulder. “Heyyyy… What’s wrong?” 

Lupa was too drunk to control her emotions. Her mind and judgment were clouded. She was at that weird intersection of drunkenness and sadness where she was either going to get into a fight, or cry. She chose the latter option. The guardswomen buried her face into Cato’s armored chest and started bawling her eyes out. 

“There there. Let’s get you home.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus and Beowulf were playing Battletoads on NES when suddenly, there was a knock on the library door. “Come in!” Magnus called, still focused on his game. 

Gulliman walked in and shut the door behind him. “Magnus, can I talk to you please?” 

“Yeah hold on. Let me pause the game.” Magnus paused the game and turned around. “Yeah?” 

Roboute had a stern look on his face. “I heard about what happened with Mortarion yesterday.” 

“Yeah. We had a big depression adventure. What about it?” 

“I’m a bit concerned about where your loyalty to The Imperium stands.” 

Magnus groaned. “Roboute, you have to understand where I’m coming from here.” He slumped down on his beanbag chair. “You come from a place of privilege. Sure, we both had great upbringings. But you don’t know what it’s like to be a psyker.” 

“Oh no…” Beowulf whispered under his breath. 

“Look, I know things have been rough for psykers. The Imperium doesn’t treat them that well and I’m trying to reform that. But Magnus, I’m just concerned you’re going to turn on me before any meaningful change can be made.” 

Magnus sighed heavily. “I have no option than to side with you, Gulliman. As much as I dislike you, I now see that the best thing I can do for my people is to bring father back so we don’t have to sacrifice children anymore.” 

“Alright.” Gulliman got up. “Don’t let me down, Magnus.” He said before going back to the castle’s halls. 

Magnus sat back up and picked up his controller. He noticed Beowulf seemed upset. “Hey, if you need to talk about it, I’m here.” He read the psyker’s mind and sensed he needed a hug more than anything. “Here.” Magnus picked Beowulf up and held him close to his chest. 

“Thanks.” Beowulf buried his face in Magnus’s tunic. “Sorry. 

~~~~

Meanwhile, Magdalene was in Rogal’s room, helping him work on a project. 

One of the walls in Rogal’s room was a whiteboard, and he had various sketches and geometrical equations all over it. He wrote down his thoughts with great detail and intention, everything had to be exact. 

Magdalene stood next to him and mulled over everything as the hulking beast of a man worked. “So for the walls, would it be possible to change the shape of the wire reinforcement from a hexagonal shape, to a triangle shape?” 

“How come?”, Rogal looked at his sketch, analyzing it for any mistakes. 

Magdalene took the cap off their marker and scribbled on a few arrows. “Due to the pressure of the rockcrete above, extra reinforcement would be of great financial and practical benefit. And in this case, a triangular pattern would be 1.56% more resilient in the long run.” 

“Good thinking.” Dorn wrote down a few notes to the side, then paused. “Magdalene, I was thinking…” 

“Yes?” 

“There’s a few blueprints and models that I left in my vacation home on Fortise that I think would aid in the reconstruction of the Phalanx. Would you like to come there with me for a few days?” 

Magdalene looked up at him. “Are you suggesting that we go on a vacation?” 

“Of sorts. Yes. We will still be working, but-” He couldn’t quite get the words out. “My apologies. It appears I am unable to articulate my feelings into a coherent sentence.” 

“We all have those moments, my Primarch.” Magdalene paused. “Great Omnissiah. My fleshy brain is urging me to hold your hand even though we need as many hands as possible for what we are doing!” They shook their head. 

“The human body craves affection at the most inconvenient of times. Would you like to lean your body against mine as we work?” 

“I would like that very much.” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beowulf had finally calmed down and was about to fall asleep, when Magnus received a telepathic transmission. 

“Sorry. I just got a call from one of my librarians. We have a problem with a new neophyte.” 

Beowulf yawned. “New neophyte?” 

“Yeah.” Magnus picked up Beowulf and set the Primaris psyker aside. “We got a new neophyte and he’s very upset right now. They can’t get him to calm down.” He stood up. 

Beowulf stood up as well. “I want to come with you.” 

“You don’t want to come with me, Beowulf.” Magnus shook his head. “You’ll be reminded of things that you don’t want to remember.” 

“Magnus-” He frowned and furrowed his brow. “Don’t worry about my past. I want to be a part of your life. And in order to do that, I want to learn more about it. The good, the bad, and the ugly.” 

The primarch turned away. “Beowulf- There is a screaming, distressed child I need to take care of. He’s going to remind you of yourself. You’re an empath, it’s just-” 

Beowulf tugged at Magnus’s robe. “Do this one thing for me- Please. I L-” His train of thought stopped. 

Magnus turned around. “You L?” He sighed. “Alright, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dorn’s vacation home was in the far north of Fortise, a large fortress nestled in the mountains of the world’s icy north pole. When he got out of his ship, he carried his luggage in his arms, along with Magdalene’s. 

“I didn’t realize your vacation home would be somewhere cold.” Magdalene commented as they walked alongside Rogal. 

“Perhaps I should’ve warned you. Now that I think of it, most people’s vacation homes are in warm areas.” He walked inside and turned on the lights. Then he set the luggage down near the entrance and kneeled over at the fireplace to set a fire. 

Magdalene walked over and sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace, watching Dorn as he knelt down on the soft, bearskin rug. “Would you mind snuggling in front of the fireplace while we wait for the house to heat up?” 

“Sure. But it will get hot soon.” The primarch commented. 

“As it often does when our bodies are together.” 

A tiny smirk escaped the edge of his lips. The fire finally started and he stood up, unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Is that so you don’t overheat?” They got off the couch. 

“Yeah.” Dorn lay down on the edge of the rug and gestured for Magdalene to lay down next to him. 

The tech priest did just that. They nuzzled their head into Rogal’s chest and the two lay like that for a long time. “Lord Rogal?” 

“Are you capable of feeling love?” 

“I’m capable of feeling the full range of human emotions. But a lot of people don’t seem to realize that.” He ran his fingers through Magdalene’s short, soft hair.

“Sorry. You just seem so dour, even more so than me.” 

“I find it difficult to articulate my feelings into words. Not that I feel much need to speak anyways.” He gazed upon the tech priest with his soft, grey eyes. “It is true that I’m not a very expressive person. But just know that deep within myself, I feel affection for those close to me.” He closed his eyes. “That includes you too.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beowulf followed Magnus down the halls of one of the Thousand Son’s monasteries, into a room where the new neophytes were kept. As he walked, he heard the screams and cries of small children and felt their pain. He remembered when he was a young boy, taken away from his parents by The Imperium, put in a holding pen on a transport ship, thousands of children packed like sardines as they screamed and cried for their parents. 

“This way.” The two did some more walking, until finally, they stood in front of a tall serf holding a screaming little boy. He couldn’t be any older than ten. 

“LET GO OF ME YOU MONSTERS! I WANT MY MOMMY! GIVE ME BACK MY MOMMY!” The boy cried out, his eyes swollen from crying for hours. 

“I’ll take it from here.” Magnus said softly, holding the young boy in his arms. 

“LET GO OF ME, YOU MONSTER! AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” He bit down on the primarch’s arm- hard. 

Beowulf could sense that Magnus was angry. Not at the child, but something else. 

“Let’s go back to the palace, Beowulf.” Magnus sighed. 

“Okay?” Beowulf was confused. What was going on? Where did this boy come from? Were the many questions swirling through the primaris psyker’s mind as Magnus teleported them all back to his room in the Imperial Palace. “Magnus, where did that child come from?” He questioned, wondering if the Thousand Sons were just as bad as The Imperium. 

“Where do you think we got him from?” 

Beowulf peered into the child’s mind and saw a sight similar to the one he saw many years ago. Crowded cages full of crying children. Pyromancers torching other kids and screaming at them to stay away so they could have enough floor space to sleep on. Telekinetics throwing things around with their minds in a fit of sadness and misdirected rage, tired and angry. Empaths huddled up together and crying in the corners of the cells, overwhelmed by all the sadness, anger, and fear they sensed. He nearly took psychic damage remembering it all at once. 

Beowulf finally understood. He had always wondered how the Thousand Sons got new recruits, and now it all made sense. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now here’s an equation I think you’ll find useful.” Rogal wrote down a complex mathematical equation on the whiteboard in the workroom of his vacation house. “X will represent the amount of force, while Y will-” His stomach growled loudly as he spoke. “Represent the overall width of the beams. Work on that while I focus on the next room.” 

“Don’t you think we should take a break for dinner first, my Primarch?” 

Rogal shook his head. “I am what the kids call “ _ in the zone _ ”, and therefore I’d prefer to keep on working until I reach a stopping point.” 

“Your stomach’s been growling loudly for an hour now though. You must be incredibly hungry.” Magdalene twirled a dry erase marker around in between their fingers. 

“That is true. I guess we can break for dinner if you are hungry as well.” 

“I’m very hungry actually.” 

Dorn sighed and put the cap back on his marker. “Follow me to the kitchen.” He led the tech priest to the kitchen and opened up the cupboards. “We have only a small bag of beef jerky. I forgot to stock up on food it seems.” 

“Really? But we’re in the middle of nowhere.” 

“Don’t fret, Magdalene.” The primarch walked over to his suitcase near the entrance of the house. He took out a large fur cloak and a parka.

Magdalene raised an eyebrow. “Are we going hunting?” 

“Yes.” Rogal pulled a small parka out of his suitcase and handed it over to them. 

“Wow. You remembered to pack everything but the food”, they teased, playfully elbowing the primarch. 

“And that food is for you. I can manage for a while with an empty stomach.” He put on the cloak and parka. “Follow me to the garage.” 

Rogal’s garage was stocked with various hunting tools, snowshoes, and other equipment. As well as a motorbike built for the tundra’s harsh terrain. He grabbed a chainsword, spear, grappling hook, and harpoon off the weapons rack. “Can you drive a motorbike?” 

“Yeah. I can.” 

“Good.” He put his weapons in a holster attached to the side of the bike, and hopped on, revving up the engines. Magdalene hopped on as well. Wrapping their arms around his waist. And so the two set off, speeding through the tundra in search of prey. “Why the chainsword, Rogal?” They asked. Wondering what use a chainsword would serve on a hunting trip.

“As I said before, I always come prepared.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“WHO ARE YOU? I WANT MY MOMMY! LET ME GO LET ME GO!” 

Magnus sighed and put the kid down, giving him some space. “You can’t see your mother right now.” 

“Why not!?” The young child cried out. 

“You know how you got kidnapped by some very bad people?” Magnus’s voice was calm and unusually soothing. 

“Y-yes?” The kid sniffled. 

“They will hurt your mother if you go back to see her.” 

“Why?” 

The primarch put a gentle hand on the neophyte’s shoulder. “You were born with a very special power. And sometimes when people are special or different, other people want to hurt them because they’re scared, or don’t understand. But you don’t have to worry now, because my sons and I are just like you. And we would never hurt you.” 

Beowulf just sat on the edge of the bed and listened. For some odd reason, tears were flowing down his cheek. What he would’ve given to have heard those words as a child. To know that he wasn’t a monster just because he was different. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright. You’re up.” A sanctioned psyker said to one of the children in the waiting room. He had been cramped up in a cell for almost a week now and this was certainly a nice change of scenery. Though this ordeal was nonetheless nerve wracking to say the least. Beowulf watched as the child nervously walked into the room with the psyker. He felt the emotions of all the other psyker children in the room. Scared, tired, worried. Beowulf had read enough of the guard’s minds to know what was going on. He knew that if he wasn’t strong enough, he would be killed. He was only 10, he was too young to die. He had to prove somehow that he was strong, but how? 

He heard the door open and his head shot up. 

“Beowulf?” The sanctioned psyker asked. There was no sign of the kid. 

“Where did that one kid go?” Beowulf asked. 

“I’m afraid he didn’t pass. He will be sacrificed by the end of the day. Come along now. 

“Okay…” Beowulf nervously hopped off the seat. He could feel his heart racing. This was do or die. As he followed the psyker down the hallway, he felt the anguish of the children in the other rooms. Crying out, not understanding why they would be dying tonight. 

“This room.” The adult man opened up the door and led Beowulf inside. 

The room was a concrete room of medium size. Against one of the walls, sat three judges, he could tell they were also psykers. 

The one in the middle, an old man with a head full of implants, looked at a clipboard. “Beowulf, is it? And you’re a telepath.” 

“Y-yes sir.” He stuttered as he walked to the center of the room, facing the judges. Although he seemed calm and collected on the outside, deep inside he wanted to scream, and cry, and pull his hair out. It was all too much to bear. 

“Show us your power.” 

“My power…” The young boy looked down for a moment. He needed to show these judges something calm and collected, but also brutal. In order to survive, he needed to be powerful. Then he had an idea. He could make people forget things using his powers. What if he got someone to forget how to breathe? But then someone would have to die. But the kids in the other rooms were going to die anyways, right? He had no other choice. It was do or die. It was okay, right? He tried to reassure himself that it was okay. He tried to reassure  _ himself  _ that it was okay. Holding back tears, he took a deep breath and focused his power. Through the walls, he felt the psychic signature of the boy from before who had failed his test. He was in a holding room. He was going to die anyways, right? 

Beowulf closed his eyes and focused for a while, then he felt the boy’s life force slip away from the other room. He opened his eyes a couple minutes later. The psykers in the middle and right of the table seemed confused. But the third psyker on the left- a young man in his 30’s. seemed shocked and disturbed. 

“I did it. He forgot how to breathe.” Beowulf stated. Everything felt numb. He just stared lifelessly at the three psykers in front of him. 

“Who forgot how to breathe?” The woman on the right asked, confused.

“Marko?” The psyker in the middle asked, looking over to the young man. 

The man simply got up and gestured for everyone to follow. He opened up the door to the room next door. It was a holding cell. None of the kids were screaming or crying. It was just… Oddly silent. In the middle of that cell was the boy from before, collapsed onto the ground. His face was blue. And he- Well, that was the day Beowulf learned that not everyone closes their eyes when they die. It was not a peaceful death, but a violent struggle. That horrified, contorted face would be permanently etched into his mind and his nightmares for the rest of his life. He never knew peace again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Rogal and Magdalene had been cruising through the icy tundra for over an hour now. Still no sign of any animals. 

“Is the tundra normally this barren?” They asked, still holding on to the primarch from behind. 

“Yes. Most of the animals in the area live in the sea. Not much lives on the land.” Suddenly, he hit the brakes on the bike, and everything went silent as he stopped the motor. “I sense something.” He hovered his hand over the handle of his spear. 

Magdalene looked around, not able to hear a single thing except for the frigid, howling winds. 

And suddenly, with a mighty roar, something enormous burst out from the thick sheet of ice that covered the ocean above. For a split second, it was obscured by all the ice and foamy sea water it brought in its wake, but then mid-breach, it jumped onto the icy ground. The beast was a sight to behold. Nearly 12 feet tall on all fours and around 17 standing up. Thick, garishly white fur that somehow reflected the sun even better than the snow. And a wide, menacing snarl full of sharp teeth. 

“A sea bear.” Rogal said under his breath. “Not fully grown, but still a worthy opponent.” He switched hands to his grappling hook. “Drive in a circle around the bear.” He picked Magdalene up by the waist with his free hand and placed them in the driver’s seat. 

“Okay.” Magdalene revved up the engines and drove off in just the nick of time- as the bear charged right towards where the bike was parked. They swerved quickly and zoomed back towards the beast in a curved line. Rogal held the grappling hook in his hands, waiting for the perfect opportunity. A few moments later, he launched the hook at the bear, the momentum of the bike causing the hook to swing around the lumbering beast’s body and wrap the rope around its arms. At that moment, the bike had made a complete circle and the bear tripped over. The primarch grabbed his chainsword with his free hand. By then, Magdalene had already made another circle, this one tighter than the previous one. The gap between them and the bear had become shorter, and Rogal took the opportunity to jump off the bike and charge at the sea bear, his chainsword revved up. Right before Dorn was about to strike. However. The bear freed itself from the rope around itself and swung at the chainsword with its mighty claws, sending the primarch flying back, and the sea bear with a large gash on its paws. 

Thinking fast, Magdalene grabbed the harpoon off the holster off the side of the bike, and shot it at Rogal’s fur cloak, piercing the back part that hung off like a cape. The harpoon drew its rope back, sending the two flying towards each other. Rogal grabbed the rope with his free hand and used the momentum to fling himself back onto the seat of the bike. “Thanks.” He said as he pulled the harpoon’s spear out of his cloak. The bear was now quickly approaching, the matte white ice sheet beneath everyone was now slick and red with the blood gushing out of the beast’s paws. “Charge straight towards the bear!” 

“Seriously!? Okay!” Magdalene turned the bike around and charged towards the bear at lightning speeds. Once the bear was a few yards away, Rogal jumped off and charged one last time, chainsword in hand. The bear swiped with both paws this time, but it wasn’t enough to break the primarch’s momentum. And in a flash, it was over. The bear collapsed onto the ground, Rogal Dorn’s giant chain sword driven into its heart. Rogal pulled the sword out and set it aside, panting a little. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Magdalene drove back up to the primarch and stopped the bike to check on him. 

“Just a few scratches. That’s all.” 

The tech priest took a closer look and saw several large gashes on Dorn’s back. “You’re wounded.” 

“As I often am when fighting a sea bear.” He knelt down on the ground and took off his gloves. Then he punched a small hole through the ice and cupped some seawater in his hands. “Can you apply some saltwater to my wounds? It’ll help it heal.” 

“Rogal… I don’t think that’s true.” 

“It’s true.” His voice was still calm and collected despite his pain.

“Okay. If it wasn’t true, would you still put seawater on your wounds?” 

“Yes.” 

“Of course you would.” Magdalene sighed, putting their robotic hands into the water, and pouring it onto Dorn’s wounds. The man made no sound, but they could tell he was in pain by his grimace. “Thanks.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There, there. Things will get better in the morning. I promise.” Magnus said softly. 

“Okay…” The boy yawned, finally calmed down enough to feel tired again. 

Magnus pulled the comforter up and tucked the child in. “Sweet dreams.” 

“Magnus?” The child asked. 

“Yes?” 

“Are the bad people going to get me in my sleep?” 

The primarch shook his head. “They won’t. I promise that you’re going to wake up in this room, safe and sound.” 

“Okay…” The boy closed his eyes and dozed off. 

Magnus smiled and gently patted him on the head before getting up. 

Beowulf was sitting on the beanbag across the bed, looking up at Magnus. Magnus sat down next to him. “Sorry you had to see that.” The primarch whispered. 

“It’s okay.” Beowulf smiled and looked down. “Honestly, it’s actually strangely comforting to see you at your most tender. 

“I don’t have many chances to show off my tender side. Mainly because everyone around me is a complete prick.” He put a gentle hand on Beowulf’s cheek. “Except for you.” He kissed the psyker softly on the forehead. “By the way, are you alright? Earlier, I sensed that you were reliving something traumatic.” 

“Yeah, just- You know. Standard psyker stuff.” Beowulf sighed. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

The Fenrisian shook his head. “Actually, I think I’m good.” He snuggled up next to Magnus. “Think you could tuck me in too?” He chuckled softly. 

“Sure.” Magnus used his psyker powers to make a blanket magically appear in his hands. He then draped it over Beowulf. “Nice and cozy?” 

“Yeah.” He nuzzled the daemon prince and they both closed their eyes. 

“Magnus?” 

“Yeah?” 

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.” 

“And that is?” 

“You’ll see.” Beowulf softly kissed the primarch on the cheek and then dozed off. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rogal made quick work of the bear, and in no time at all, the beast was fully dressed. Liver, stomach, and intestines set aside for the scavengers to eat. 

“What about the other organs?” Magdalene was slightly grossed out. 

“Those are edible.” Dorn replied. 

“You… eat the organs?” 

“My grandfather taught me to use every part of the animal that you could. And return the rest to nature.” He tied a rope around the carcass and looked up. “There’s a snowstorm coming.” 

“Can we make it home?” The tech priest looked up at the sky and saw snow start to fall. 

“We should camp out for the night.” Rogal tied the bear carcass to the bike and hopped on. 

Magdalene hopped on as well. “But we don’t have a tent!”

“We will make one out of snow.” Rogal revved up the engines and made haste, a few minutes later, he made it back to land and parked next to a snow drift. He grabbed his spear and hopped off the bike. 

Magdalene just watched, confused. 

“We are going to build an igloo.” He drew an igloo into the snow with the handle of his spear. 

“Oh, I see. A house made out of snow. But how does one make a building of that shape with just snow?” 

“The bricks will form an upwards spiral, similar to a catenary curve.” He explained. “And there will be a hole in the center for the firepit to sit under.” 

“Amazing. I never knew that one could do that with snow.” They looked over at Dorn. “But how are we going to turn the snow into bricks?” 

“With my chainsword.” Rogal revved up his chainsword and started cutting the densely packed snowdrift into large bricks, wasting no time doing so. 

Magdalene picked up the first brick in the slope and set it down at a nearby clearing. So far, so good. Although the snow seemed fragile. The next three bricks were also pretty easy. But then Magdalene picked up the fourth brick and it fell apart. “Rogal, the fourth brick broke.” 

Without a word, the primarch cut out another brick and handed it to Magdalene. They slowly started to get the hang of it. And within the hour, an igloo was built. The tech priest looked around. “But how are we going to make a fire?” 

“We’re going to need to dig down to get some moss, branches, and rocks.” He knelt down and started digging in the snow. 

“Oh. So it’s winter?” 

“Yes.” Rogal replied as he rooted around in the snow for the scarce foliage. 

The two eventually amassed a decently-sized pile of moss, lichens, and shrub branches. As well as some stones, and then carried it inside the igloo. 

Magdalene set their pile down. “Where are we going to sleep tonight?” 

“A bed.” Rogal said as he arranged the stones in a circle. “While I start the fire, can you make a bed out of snow?” 

“Snow?” Magdalene seemed a bit confused. “Alright.” They went outside and began to gather some snow. 

An hour or so passed, and things were starting to settle down for the night. Rogal sat at the edge of the snow bed, his mouth too full of bear meat to talk, not that he was much of a talker anyways. Magdalene just leaned against him as they ate. The inside of the igloo was surprisingly warm despite being made of ice. The inside was still too chilly to take off their jackets in, but it was so much better than being trapped in the snowstorm outside. The tech priest finished their portion of meat and set the bones aside. “You really grew up in a place like this?” 

Rogal swallowed his food. “Yeah.” He took another bite. Then he spoke up again after eating some more meat. “Inwit was always like this.” 

“Is that why you’re so stoic?” 

“There are many factors that contribute to that. But my upbringing is a pretty big one.” He finished his food. 

“Well I’m glad that even though you grew up in such a harsh place, you didn’t become a harsh person.” 

“I’m harsh when I need to. Being adaptable is essential when you’re living in such a place.” He frowned. “I wish Perturabo understood that.” 

“Perturabo?” 

“One of my brothers. He was a lot like me in a way. We both loved building and designing things. But well, he had to build practical things just like me. And he wanted to build fountains, and parks, and beautiful sculptures. But there was a war going on, he didn’t understand why his father was suppressing his ‘artistic talents’”, he said in a somewhat mocking tone. “So he betrayed us all. And I guess now we’re mortal enemies.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Magdalene put a gentle hand on his thigh. 

“It actually reminds me of a story from my homeworld.” 

“I’d love to hear it.” 

“Alright. You know how Inwit has two suns?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, when I was just a young boy, my grandfather told me the tale of why. It’s a standard pourquoi story of course…” 

_ Long ago, there was only darkness on the planet, Inwit. People struggled to survive. And among those people were two brothers. Inigo and Inuk. They loved each other dearly. They did everything together. But one night, the two were out hunting, and the skies were so cloudy, that not even the stars could be seen. They were in complete darkness. And in the confusion, Inigo accidentally poked Inuk’s eye out with a spear. Inuk got so angry that he started chasing Inigo. The two ran so fast, that they defied gravity and ran off into space and started glowing like an asteroid. They became Inwit’s two suns. Who are still chasing each other to this day, as they orbit around the planet. _

“Wow. Amazing.” Magdalene mused. 

“My grandfather used to tell me that story every time I pointed my spear the wrong way.” Rogal stretched out and yawned. “Let’s go to bed, Magdalene.” He stood up and draped his fur cloak over the bed. Then he stripped down to his underpants. 

“Wait- Isn’t it too cold in here to get naked?” 

“No. This is how people sleep in the tundra. Naked under a warm pile of clothes to preserve body heat.” The primarch explained. 

“Ah I see.” Magdalene stripped down as well and settled under the pile of clothes with Rogal. “Goodnight Rogal.” 

~~~

“Goodnight, Magdalene.” Rogal looked up at the night sky through the hole in the roof. And he was reminded of why he was glad to be alive. Life was a never-ending struggle for survival. But moments like this made it all worth it. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! If you like this fic, make sure to bookmark it, and follow my Twitter, @Simpin4Fulgrim for updates, behind the scenes content, and shitposts.


	20. Trauma: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't very inspired for this chapter. The next few chapters are mostly written and will be out soon. They will be a lot more interesting.

A few days had passed since Magnus had learned the full extent of Beowulf’s trauma. Of course, the primaris never told Magnus out of his own volition. He simply picked up bits and pieces and then read his mind while he was asleep. Unsurprisingly, he’s had a rough life. And hearing about it only fueled Magnus’s hatred for Fenrisians, no. The Imperium as a whole. Of course, there were a few Fenrisians he could stand, Beowulf being one of them. But he’s different. He was a victim of his own culture in the primarch’s mind. But that worried him as well. Thoughts of doubt swirled through his mind. _“Do I only care for him because I pity him? Or because I share his pain? Are we just two strangers with the same hunger? I don’t even know if I love the man. But I know he loves me. And that only fills me with more guilt.“_

Beowulf woke up in his lover’s arms as all these questions were going through his head. “Good morning, Magnus.” 

Magnus kissed him on the forehead. “Good morning, Beowulf.” 

“Good morning, Magnus.” He yawned. Gods, he was adorable. He was handsome in a youthful sort of way. The kind of beauty depicted in ancient paintings of angels. But when he yawned, he saw those fangs. The massive, wolflike canines that they all seemed to have. The sharp, snarling teeth that plagued his memories. 

“I hear they’re serving figgy pudding in the cafeteria today. We better hurry before they run out.” Beowulf piped up, smirking a cheeky grin, knowing how much Magnus loved figgy pudding. He got up and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Magnus followed. Beowulf got out his hairbrush and started brushing his long golden hair, while the primarch pissed. They were both at a weird point in their relationship where they could have casual conversations while attending to their bodily functions. It was strange, since such a thing was commonplace on Prospero. As was sleeping naked or not wearing a shirt out in public. Admittedly, living in Terra for so long made Magnus ashamed of a lot of things he had previously done without a second thought. 

After Magnus washed his hands, he started to brush his teeth. Beowulf had already gotten a head start and was brushing those hypnotically infuriating canines. But Magnus tried to focus on his own face. He hated looking at his face. Every time he saw it- the Roman nose, the strong brow ridge and jawline, he was reminded of his father. And every time he saw his empty eye socket, he was reminded of how he was robbed of his dignity. Sure, he had the power to change his appearance. But he chose not to. Because even if he had erased all the features of himself that reminded me of the people who wronged him; it wouldn’t change the fact that he had been wronged in the first place. Even though he hated looking at his own face- it still reminded him of what he was fighting for in the first place. And that was more than enough to stay as he was. 

The primarch put away my toothbrush and rinsed out his mouth.

“Oh, Magnus? Can you braid my hair please? It’s getting a little frizzy.” Beowulf asked as he looked at Magnus with those soft, angelic eyes. 

“Yeah, sure.” Magnus replied. He could never say no to touching his fine, soft hair. But he hated his braids. They reminded him of Fenris. Unfortunately, Fenrisians are quite ethnically homogenous. Which means they all remind him of Leman, even if they’re completely unrelated.

Beowulf looked at the warlock from the mirror. “Is everything okay, Magnus? You seem upset about something?” He frowned, worried about him. It was frustrating to think such things about a person 

Magnus hesitated for a moment, realizing that Beowulf was someone he truly cared about and didn’t want to hurt. Not to mention the fact that he can read people’s thoughts. And then Magnus also realized that if he were to tell the truth, it would hurt Beowulf’s self-esteem. And he don’t want Beowulf to end up a broken man like him. Magnus sighed. “It’s something beyond your control, Beowulf.” Magnus said as he undid his old braids and brushed them out straight. “You’re Fenrisian. Your people have a- long history with mine. Sometimes I remember that fact and it makes me feel resentment. Even though there is nothing about you to resent. You are not complicit in the atrocities committed against my people. But I am complicit in having a bias. Forgive me.” 

Not able to turn his head or move his body much at all. He pressed the back of his body against Magnus’s front. “I figured as much. That’s all I wanted to hear.” 

Those words sent a chill down the primarch’s spine as he heard them. Finally, someone who understood what he was going through. Someone who forgave him for his biases. He was nearly perfect too. “Beowulf?” Magnus asked as he felt chills down his spine.

“Yes?” 

“The pudding can wait. I want to make love to you right now.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gulliman opened his eyes as he heard his alarm go off. He used to dread getting up in the mornings. But now, He had something to look forward to. He saw Yvraine’s gyrinx lift her head up as she sensed his awakening and the primarch scratched her behind the ears. Although his life was still as chaotic as ever- He felt a brief sense of bliss in the morning, rather than impending doom. 

“Good morning.” 

He turned my head and saw Yvraine next to him. Being an eldar, she was much more of a morning person than him since she meditated rather than slept. “Did you sleep well?” The primarch asked as he gently cupped his hand against her cheek. 

“Yeah.” Yvraine kissed Gulliman on the cheek. 

A bell rang outside of Gulliman’s door. Breakfast- It came every morning like clockwork, right after his alarm went off. He got up and opened his door, then came back with recaf and food. He set it down on the table next to the bed. 

“I asked the kitchen staff to stop giving you recaf and to make you extra food.” 

Yvraine took her plate. “Don’t you think they’ll start getting suspicious?” 

Gulliman shrugged. “You’re going to start to show in a few months anyways.” 

“Actually, Eldar don’t start to show until near the end. The fetus stays small for most of the pregnancy, all that time is focused on brain and psychic development rather than size.” 

“Yeah, but the baby is half-human. Plus, Primarchs grow insanely fast. I grew out of my high chair when I was a week old. By the time I was five, I was six-feet tall.” 

“Good gods… Do you think I’ll need a C-section?” Yvraine seemed a little scared. 

“You handle me better than any human woman can. I think you’ll be able to push out Roboute Jr. with ease.” 

“Is that the name we’re going with?” 

“Well if it’s a girl, Robin I guess?” He chuckled. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus went down the hall to get some food. Beowulf stayed in the library as he was- tired. In the old days, he would’ve just asked a servant to fetch him whatever he needed. But lately, he liked getting out of his room every once in a while. His brief visits to the world outside his library felt oddly… Nice. It felt good to take in the mundane thoughts of those around him- it was a reminder of his aspirations- who he was fighting for. Of course, he disliked most people. But oddly enough- he had a soft spot for children and lowly peasants. They were like blank slates for knowledge. Innocence was a beautiful- yet terrifying thing. As he walked across the halls- he stumbled upon an old nemesis of his. 

“Hello, Leman.” 

“Magnus.” Leman said casually- as if trying to avoid conflict. 

The two stopped, suspiciously facing one another. Magnus tried to pry into his brother’s mind- but there was some sort of barrier from stopping him. 

Leman frowned. “I don’t appreciate ya tryin’ to pry into my thoughts.” 

“It’s just a reflex, Leman.” Magnus stared down at him. If the tension between the two was a rope, it could be cut with a butter knife. It was that kind of tension where it was inevitable that someone would lash out. Magnus took first blood. He shoved Leman against a wall and glared. 

“I still hate you, Leman.” The warlock snarled. 

“Ya don’t think I know that?” 

“What you did to me and my people was unforgivable. If I could, I’d punch out both your hearts and shove them up your ass. But if I did that, then 1,000 children would continue to be sacrificed to The Imperium every day for the rest of eternity. It’s a real Sophie’s Choice.” 

“It’s not a fucking Sophie’s Choice, you’re just a fucking dipshit!” Leman snarled. 

“Bold words from the guy who burned down my entire fucking planet.” 

Leman pushed Magnus away. “You’re just like Mortarion. You two are perfect for each other. Both of ya are annoying, whiny assholes who are too stuck in the past to work for a brighter future.” 

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “Do you not feel any guilt for what happened on Prospero?” 

“The only thing I feel sorry for is being tricked by Horus.” 

Leman’s lack of guilt struck a nerve deep within Magnus. He was furious, sad, tormented. His eyes glowed with a burst of psychic energy. “You have no idea how much I want to kill you right now.” 

With catlike reflexes, Magnus grabbed his brother’s face with his enormous palm, and slammed the back of his head against the wall. Channeling arcane energy from The Warp, he forcefully broke through Leman’s mental barriers and poured his heart out. The thoughts he read on that fateful day. The agonizing screams of children, the pain of people being slowly burned alive, the anguish and fear of millions of innocent civilians, all projected through the warlock’s palm and into Leman’s mind. “INSTEAD, I WILL MAKE YOU FEEL SOMETHING WORSE THAN DEATH, LEMAN! THIS IS THE PAIN OF MY PEOPLE!” 

An ordinary human would’ve died instantly from the pure psychic energy flowing through Magnus. But Leman could take a lot of psychic damage. And even he was at his limit. He lost consciousness within a few seconds, but the memories would haunt him for the rest of eternity. Magnus walked away, unashamed of what he had done. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beowulf was wondering when Magnus would be back, when he noticed the primarch’s presence outside the door. “Magnus?” 

Suddenly, the door opened. Magnus stumbled into the room. Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

“Magnus!” The empath took his hand and guided him to the bed. “What’s wrong!?” 

“Ughhh…” The cyclops faceplanted onto the bed. 

Beowulf could tell that he was drained of psychic power. But how? What could he have done to use up so much energy? He tried getting a reading on Magnus, but he immediately recoiled from the pain. It was too painful to even read him for a second. But he could tell from Magnus’s energy that he was clearly in pain. Both physically and mentally. All he could do was sit beside the unconscious warlock and wait for him to wake up. 

Beowulf had been sitting beside Magnus, when the cyclops finally turned over on his side and opened his eye. “Beowulf?” He asked weakly. The sheets were drenched with water as if he had been crying. But there was no auditory or visual indication until now. It just apparently had leaked out of his eye while he was asleep. 

“Magnus… Were you crying?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus awoke to a hand on his shoulder. What he did to Leman drained so much out of him that he barely had enough energy to make it back to his room. He felt the pain and anguish of billions of humans in the span of a few seconds. It took a toll on him- both physically and mentally. And now he was exhausted, sore, and depressed. “Yes, Beowulf. It appears that I had cried while I was unconscious. You know how it is- sometimes powerful empath spells can cause the user to shed tears involuntarily. It was merely a lapse of self-control. Nothing more than a fluke.” 

“Magnus. It’s okay to cry. You don’t have to use your flowery language to justify it.” Beowulf gently rubbed him on the shoulders. 

The primarch sighed. “I appreciate everything you do for me, Beowulf.”

There was a long pause between the two. Beowulf finally broke that silence. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No.” Magnus shifted his gaze to the floor. “It’s nothing.” 

“Alright…” The Fenrisian gently kissed him on the cheek. “Just know that I’m here for you. Forever always.” 

And in that moment, Magnus knew he was in love. This moment wasn’t the right time to say it. But he so badly wanted to admit it.

“Magnus, remember when I told you I was going to do something big?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I want you to meet me in meeting room 3b at 3PM tomorrow.” 

“I can do that.”    
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leman woke up a few minutes later and stumbled over to his room. He felt exhausted but- In a way he had never felt before. It felt as if his body were made of lead and he was covered by a dense fog. It was a bad feeling. And when Leman felt things that made him feel bad, his first instinct, like most well-adjusted Fenrisians was to drink them away. He opened up the fridge next to his bed and got a bottle of aquavit. He then proceeded to chug down the whole thing. Then he got out another few bottles just in case one wasn’t enough and set them down on the edge of his bed. Yep. He was going to feel better in no time. Any minute now… He lied down in bed and waited for a few moments to see if he felt any better. Nope. So he got another bottle of aquavit and chugged it down. Nothing. Nothing again. It just numbed the pain a little. He could maybe boof it, but he didn’t feel like getting out of bed now. WHAT WERE THESE FEELINGS!? 

An hour later, he had drunk 5 entire bottles of aquavit. And still nothing. He just lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. He looked to the side and noticed an envelope that someone had slid under his door. What was that? And when did it get there? Not that it mattered. He didn’t have the energy to get up anyways. A few minutes later, he drifted off to sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Magnus walked over to Meeting Room 3b to meet Beowulf at the specified time. He didn’t know what the sanctioned psyker was planning, but whatever it was, things were about to get weird. He opened the door, and he saw several of his siblings sitting around in a circle of folding chairs. Luckily though, there was no sign of Leman. “What are you guys doing here?” Magnus asked as he pulled up a chair and sat down. 

“I was told this was political. I think it is?” Gulliman confessed. 

“Same here.” Dorn added. 

Fulgrim frowned, disappointed. “I was promised there would be a massive orgy in this room. Either that was a lie, or some sick fuck wrote this invitation.” 

Cygnus shrugged. “Mine had vague promises of money?” 

“Beowulf told me personally to come here. Maybe he was the one who sent you all the invitations.” Magnus didn’t quite have an answer either. He turned his head when he sensed Leman’s presence. 

The Fenrisian primarch, Leman Russ stood in the doorway and looked around. “Shit. Is this an AA meeting?”

Magnus smirked. “No. It’s something else. You don’t look so good, bud. Sit down.” 

“Fine…” Leman grumbled as he pulled out a chair and sat between Gulliman and Cygnus. 

A few moments later, Beowulf walked into the room and stood at the edge of the circle. “Hello, you all may be wondering why I brought you all here today.” 

“That’s all we’ve been wondering.” Cygnus butted in. 

“Uhh anyways... “ Beowulf continued. “You all may know me as a sanctioned psyker. But in my free time, I have extensively studied human psychology. Honestly, I wanted to be a therapist, not a soldier. But well, the career choices of a psyker are pretty limited.” He seemed a bit bitter. “But anyways, I’ve noticed a lot of tension between you all lately, and I want to help you work it out. As an empath, it is my duty to help people feel better, and I think this will be a good start. 

Magnus sighed and looked away. This was Beowulf’s big plan? He looked around. Most of his siblings were quite skeptical about his ideas, yet receptive in a way. 

“Gulliman, you’re a good leader. Why don’t you go first?” Beowulf suggested. 

Gulliman paused for a moment. “Honestly, I’ve never done something like this. What do I lead with?” 

“Speak from your heart.” The sanctioned psyker said. 

The blonde primarch took a deep breath. “As you all know, my name is Gulliman. And I love you all dearly. In fact, I am grateful that so many of you have shown your faces again. I know things will never go back to the way they were before. But that doesn’t matter. I want to keep moving forward. And I hope you all will follow.” 

“Good for you, Gulliman, but I doubt Magnus will ever move forward.” Leman said snarkily. “The bastard has been bitter about what happened to his planet for ten-thousand bloody years.” 

“And why do you think that is?” Beowulf asked. 

“Well-” Leman paused for a moment. 

Beowulf continued. “How would you feel if Magnus burned down your planet? Do you think you’d have the same reaction?” 

There was a long pause. 

“The same.” Leman confessed. “Fenris is my home. And I guess I would be rather pissed if someone burned it down.” 

Beowulf turned to Magnus. “And how does that make you feel, Magnus?” 

“Validated I guess?” He was silent for a moment. “I just feel like Leman feels no guilt for what he did to my people.” 

“Honestly…” Leman sighed heavily. “I didn’t. But when you used your magic to show me your trauma, I got a glimpse of your memories. And I guess I can see why you’ve been such an asshole to me for so many years.” 

“Yeah…” 

There was a long pause. Beowulf broke the silence. “Does anyone else have something to say?” 

Leman squinted. “Yeah uh- Who’s the broad next to me?” 

“That would be your sister.” Beowulf groaned. “She’s the second Primarch.” 

Leman did a double take. “Never remembered him havin’ tits.” 

“Her”, Cygnus grumbled. Her eyes shifted to the floor. “Speaking of which, thank you guys for taking me in. I never wanted a family, but I’m glad I have one.” 

“Aye, yer welcome, wench. Glad to have ya back.” Leman slurred. 

Cygnus frowned. “Your breath reeks of 85 proof aquavit.”

“You really are my sister.” He smirked. “You wanna ditch this place and clear out the rest of my stash?” 

“Fuck yeah.” They both got up and fled the room to get wasted. Or at least, more wasted than they already were. 

“Well. It appears Leman has made a new friend.” Beowulf looked around awkwardly. “Anyways. I think that concludes today’s session.” 

Everyone but him and Magnus got up. 

“Thanks, Beowulf. I appreciate your efforts to help our family.” Gulliman said before walking out and checking his phone. “Ten voicemails…?” 

Once everyone had left, Magnus got up and went over to Beowulf. “Beowulf…” 

The psyker only looked up at Magnus. There was an intimate air about all this. Like the confession scene in a shitty dating sim. 

Magnus picked Beowulf up and kissed him passionately. The two gazed upon each other deeply. “I appreciate how you’re always trying to help people. The way you tenderly reassure others, the way you’re always willing to drop everything just to help others. You remind me of the man I used to be. And it makes me want to become that man all over again.” He put a tender hand on Beowulf’s cheek. “I love you, Beowulf. You make me want to become a better person.” 

“I love you too.” He smiled. “And I’m overjoyed to hear you want to be a better person. You have no idea how much those words mean to me.” The psyker kissed Magnus on the cheek. “Mind if we go to the library to “tame the beast?”” 

Magnus smirked. “I’m only a beast on the battlefield. Be glad you’re on my good side.” 

  
  


Boy, was Beowulf glad. 


	21. Funny Story...

It had been years since Erda left. Truthfully, The Emperor thought about her from time to time. He cherished the millenia they spent together. But things would never be the same. He loved her. She was his best friend in the galaxy. But as time passed, he gradually started to feel complete without her. And in time, he found the love of another person- Malcador. 

Neoth awoke in the middle of the night, thirsty. Malcador was nowhere to be seen. Then The Emperor smelled something from the kitchen in his quarters- tomato. He rolled out of bed, wearing nothing but a leopard-print loincloth, and went to investigate, as well as get himself a glass of water. When he finally made it to the kitchen, he was greeted by the smell of burning. Malcador was hunched over the kitchen stove, scrubbing something with a sponge. 

“Malcador?” Neoth inquired to his loyal servant. “Why are you making spaghetti at 4 in the morning?” 

“I was hungry, my Emperor.” The old psyker said as he scrubbed something. Upon closer examination, Malcador was vigorously scrubbing burnt pasta sauce off the stove with a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.

“You’re scrubbing at that stain like some sort of primordial insect.” Neoth whispered into Malcador’s ear, sending chills down the cloaked servant’s spine. “I find it oddly endearing.” Tenderly, he took off his advisor’s hood and nibbled on his earlobe. 

Malcador turned the burner off. He bent over further as a sign of receptiveness. Brushing up against The Emperor. 

Neoth grabbed Malcador’s girdle with raw, primal force. Then he took the bottle of olive oil that was on the stove. He frowned. “Malcador, were you going to stir this olive oil into the pasta to reduce the stickiness?” 

“Yes, my Emperor.” 

“You dumbass.” The Emperor crouched down to his servant’s level. “Olive oil doesn’t reduce the stickiness of the pasta. That’s just a myth.” With primal, passionate hunger, he started kissing Malcador on the neck, leaving bruises as he did so. 

“Do whatever you want to me, I’m your’s~” Malcador moaned. 

“Oh. You know I will.” The Emperor smirked.    
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cold and desolate planet of Szlov’ina had erupted into chaos. Literal Chaos. For some Warp fuckery had occurred and most of the citizens started worshipping Khorne and mutated into people who were covered in teeth. Rows and rows of fucking teeth. Their whole bodies were covered in teeth. WHY THE FUCK WERE THEY COVERED IN TEETH!? 

Lupa’s regiment had been assigned to this planet, along with a commissar. And that commissar's name was Gaius. Gaius was an asshole. 

Gaius stood up straight and walked along the line of Lupa’s soldiers. “Alright, we need high morale if we are going to survive zhis campaign. Most of you will die. But that is a sacrifice I’m villing to make.” 

“I can’t understand your accent, ya dirty fucking lobster!” One of the grunts shouted. 

Gaius narrowed his eyes. “Oh right. I forgot you plebs can’t speak High Terran. How foolish to think any of you were properly educated.” 

“What!? All I heard was ‘I can’t lower class talk Terra, I’m stupid idiot!’” One of the soldiers shouted. 

“YES! IT SOUNDED INCOMPREHENSIBLE BECAUSE I WAS SPEAKING IN A DIFFERENT LANGUAGE, YOU FUCKING IMBECILE!” The commissar shouted in Low Terran. He took out his bolter and shot the Guardsman. “Any further questions?” It looked like he would be speaking Low Terran from now on. 

The soldiers were silent. 

“Good. Now go and shoot the bad guys. I’m going to find more ways to turn my insecurities into malice.” Gaius walked away. 

Lupa frowned. “Wow. That commissar is a real party pooper. Am I right guys?” 

“Pfft. Yeah.” One of the soldiers scoffed. “I fucking hate commissars.” 

“Yeah! Me too. It would be great if all the commissars just like, fucked off.” The captain scoffed. She took a can of aquavit out of her pocket. “Anyways. Let’s all have a celebratory drink before this campaign.” Lupa then proceeded to poke a hole into the side of the can and shotgun the whole thing. Her soldiers cheered as she did so. “Okay. Now let’s all have a few more drinks. AND THEN we go on a killing spree.” 

After a standard hour or so of chugging down various forms of hard liquor, Lupa had started her campaign against Chaos. “Okay so. The thing you need to know about these guys is that they’re full of teeth *hic* and teeth are really sharp and hard. It’s like, being covered in barbed wire. So don’t touch the teeth people! Or else you will die.” She raised her finger up in the air in some sort of weird fucking pose. “THE EMPEROR WILLS IT!” 

“THE EMPEROR WILLS IT!” The soldiers cheered. 

Lupa led the charge to a campsite a mile away where the Khorne cultists had been camping out. She stood on top of the hill, eyeing the people with her keen Astartes eyesight. “Look at those fuckers. They think they’re so much better than us just because they have more teeth than us.” 

Murmurs of agreement came from her soldiers. 

Upon closer examination, she noticed the cultists were acting almost like Orks. Fighting one another and just beating the shit out of everyone like some sort of middle school locker room. “I sense rage. Pure fucking rage.” 

“Oh shit”, one of her soldiers slurred. 

“Hmm… We need to counter the rage…” Lupa mused. “Uhh- what’s the opposite of rage?” 

“Umm… Feeling warm and fuzzy I guess!?” One of the soldiers shouted.

The half-Astartes made a fake buzzer noise and gave a thumbs down. “Wrong answer! The opposite of rage is drunken fury! Because when I’m tipsy. I feel warm and fuzzy inside. Gordon. I love you, man. You’re like a brother to me.” She put a hand on his shoulder. 

The soldier laughed. “Holy shit, we’re so fucked up right now.” 

“Okay guys. Now let’s knock some teeth out!” Lupa shouted. 

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” 

The Fenrisian soldiers stormed the enemy’s camp in a drunken rampage. Smashing tents and shooting anything that moved and was covered in teeth. The cultists fought back, exchanging bullets for slashes of their chainswords. There was blood. There was a lot of fucking blood. There was fucking blood everywhere. It was like a murder had happened. Except, instead of one murder happening, there was a series of murders. Because that’s what a war is, dumbass. 

As the bloodbath continued, Lupa thought of new strategies in between barking out orders. If these guys had a lot of teeth, then why not exploit that weakness? Teeth could get infected if exposed to a bunch of… Sugar. Sugar! That was the perfect idea. They needed a fuck ton of sugar. But for now, her soldiers were doing quite good, all things considered. Eventually, the Khorne cultists were outnumbered, and were forced to retreat. But they would come back soon, and in even greater numbers. And Lupa knew there would be hell to pay if her soldiers were the ones outnumbered. 

Once they all made it back to the camp, Lupa looked around for the commissar. “Commissar Gaius? Commissar Gaius?” She looked around. 

“Yes, Commander Lupa?” He sniffled. “Oh good Throne! You smell like potato-based alcohol and gore!” 

“As per usual.” She continued. “Anyways. I am requesting for you to send over five tons of sugar.” 

“Why do you need all zhat sugar!?” The commissar frowned. 

“Because sugar is bad for teeth. And these people are covered in teeth!” Lupa explained. “If we cover them in sugar, they will get an infection on their teeth and will be severely weakened!”

Gaius was not pleased. “Ab ßßßßßß olutely not! It would be far too inconvenient to go through all zhat paperwork! And besides. You don’t need sugar. You have guns, use them!” 

“Yes, but commissar. We outnumbered the cultists 3:1 and they still put up a good fight. If we were matched evenly, it would wipe out my entire regiment!” 

“Lupa, it’s not my job to reduce casualties. My job is to make sure The Imperium vins this battle and to keep ze soldiers from turning to Chaos.” 

“Well uhh-” Lupa was still wasted. “Fuck you, you stupid lobsterfucker!” She walked off. After a few minutes of walking, she settled into her tent and pulled her phone out. Cato had sent her a few texts while she was gone. 

> “You will not believe what I, Cato Sicarius have done!”

> “During a training session with the Chapter Master, I, Cato Sicarius, managed to knock him off his feet three consecutive times! He was astounded by my prowess and told me to fuck off. So then I, Cato Sicarius, went to the library and generously helped a serf reach a book that was too high up for him to reach. Because I, Cato Sicarius, am a noble and generous man. I then ate dinner and wrote in my diary about my exploits.” 

> “And how was your day, my love?”

Lupa texted a reply. 

< “it kinda sucked honestly. the commisar is a total dick.”

Three dots appeared, indicating that Cato was typing. 

> “How so, dear? Either way, send him my regards. I will not tolerate any unwarranted malice that is aimed towards you. For I, Cato Sicarius, am a noble and chivalrous man.” 

< “he told me to fuck off”   
< “and i came up with a stratagy that could end the conflict sooner and result in fewer deaths but he told me that he didnt care if people died because he didnt want to do the paperwork”

< “he also wont help us fight! he just stood around at the base camp and walked arond the whole time and just went hmmmm like an idiot”

The three dots appeared a few moments later and Cato began to type another long paragraph. 

> “Well, m’lady. This will simply not do. Commissars are supposed to uphold honor and boost morale. And as a nobleman, I, Cato Sicarius know best. If this continues, me and my company will drop by and give him a little visit. The man will be quaking in his boots when he sees me in all my noble glory and drop to his knees, begging for forgiveness! You need not worry. For I, Cato Sicarius will take care of the situation if this escalates any further.” 

< “thanks i really apreciate it”

Lupa sighed and laid down on her cot, putting her phone back in sleep mode. She was glad to have a dependable partner with powerful connections. It made her feel safer. The guardswoman closed her eyes and drifted off. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Captain! Captain Lupa, wake up!” 

Lupa was suddenly jostled awake by one of her fellow guardsmen. She sat up and looked around. “What’s going on!?” 

“The enemy decided to do a sneak attack at the crack of dawn. And we’re all very hungover.” 

“Well don’t just stand there, private! Get out the booze and drink away the hangover so we actually stand a chance!” 

“Yes m’am!” The guardsman ran out to get some more booze. 

Lupa, who was physically incapable of getting hungover, sprung up and quickly put on her armor. Then she ran out to bark orders at her soldiers. There were Khorne cultists everywhere. Shit tons of them. They were outnumbered. She needed backup right away. The guardswoman got out her phone and called Cato. 

“Cato. We need backup. There’s Khorne cultists everywhere and we’re all about to die!” Lupa shouted into the phone frantically as soon as Cato got on the line. 

“Well to be fair, dying is what guardsmen are best at.” Cato replied in a snide tone. “Anyways, play it safe. I will assemble my troops right now. Goodbye.” He hung up. 

Lupa put away her phone. “I’m too sober for this shit…” She grumbled. The guardswoman took a bottle of vodka out of her pocket and chugged it down. Then she chased it down with a strange liquid she kept in a flask- a special serum the Space Wolves took to help alcohol bypass their implants. “LET’S DO THIS SHIT, SOLDIERS!” She shouted as she smashed the bottle of vodka against a rock.

“Captain Lupa, we have a huge problem!” The soldier from before shouted as he came back running. 

“What?” 

“Commissar Gaius took the liquor. We have nothing to drink!” 

The Astartes was shocked. “But how are we going to drink off our hangovers!?” 

“Well I told him that! And he just told me that alcohol is bad for morale.” 

“We’re Fenrisians for Throne’s sake!” Lupa shouted. “Alcohol is our lifeblood! In fact, I’m more aquavit than blood.” She frantically grabbed the man’s shoulders. “Listen to me, we need to kill the commissar.” 

“But Captain! That’s treason!” 

“It’s not treason if we don’t get caught.” She whispered. 

“Okay, fuck it. I’m too hungover to follow the rules. How are we going to do this?” 

“We lure him into an attack from the enemy and make it look like an accident.” 

“Good plan.” 

Lupa pulled away. “Now let’s fight. We have no more time to waste.” The captain said before running off to battle. She then took her bolter and fired it at the cultists indiscriminately. After a few minutes of plowing through grunts, she realized there were space marines far away. They weren’t the friendly kind either. Judging by their insignia, they were World Eaters. WHY THE HELL WERE THERE WORLD EATERS ON THIS SHITTY BACKWOODS PLANET!? 

“USE YOURSELVES AS MEAT SHIELDS UNTIL WE CAN GET BACKUP!” Gaius yelled as he did absolutely nothing. 

“FUCK YOU, GAIUS, YOU SHITTY LITTLE PRICK!” Lupa yelled. 

“I HAVE THE AUTHORITY TO KILL YOU, CAPTAIN LUPA!” The commissar shouted back. 

“Try it bitch!” She shouted in a drunken rage. 

The commissar shot his bolter at her, but she dodged it in the nick of time and it ended up denting the armor of a World Eater instead. The World Eater turned his head and charged towards the commissar, axe in hand. 

“AAAAAGGGHHHHHHH FUCK!” Gaius screamed as he was being maimed alive by the giant man. “SOMEONE HELP ME! HELP ME OR I WILL HAVE YOU ALL SUMMARILY EXECUTED!” 

Lupa’s soldiers, as well as some of the World Eaters, laughed. 

Suddenly, the Victrix Guard’s warship landed nearby. All the World Eaters shouted angrily as they saw it. Cato Sicarius led the charge, his soldiers following close behind. 

Lupa hurriedly ran to the Victrix captain. “Cato!” 

“Lupa. Glad to see you’re okay.” Cato seemed slightly relieved amidst the chaos. He looked around. “Tell your soldiers to handle the cultists. We’ll handle the Chaos Marines.” 

She frowned. “Slight problem.” She pointed at the crowd. “The two groups are starting to mix. I can’t risk my soldiers getting hit by an Astartes, it would result in more casualties than I could handle.” 

The Victrix captain stared intently into the fray. “What do you propose we do?” 

“The Khorne cultists are covered in teeth. We need to do something to their teeth so they’ll split from the group.” 

Cato raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying we need to cause massive amounts of discomfort for the weaker cultists to split from the group, in order to reduce Guardsman casualties.” 

“And Ultramarines casualties as well. See how the Chaos Marines are using the cultists as meat shields? That gives them a free hit.” Lupa paused for a moment to think. “If we expose them to the cold, it will make their teeth pretty uncomfortable. Do you have any ice?” 

“We have three tons of ice cream.” Cato replied matter-of-factly. 

“Why do you have ice cream?” Lupa asked. 

“For my ice cream-related plans.” He mused. 

“What?” 

“Building an edible sculpture of myself out of ice cream.” 

“Oh okay. That makes sense.” Lupa replied, nodding, as if this were a normal thing for Cato.

“I’ll take care of the ice cream situation, you lead your troops.” Captain Sicarius instructed. 

“What about the Victrix Guard?” 

Cato walked back to the ship. “The chaplain is taking over in my brief absence.” 

Lupa looked over. “The Victrix Guard has their own chaplain?” She noticed a man dressed in black robes wearing a garishly white skull-shaped helmet. His white hair stuck out as if it was part of the skull. Lupa didn’t know where the helmet ended and the hair began. She got a glimpse of his silver eyes as he clubbed an enemy. That was when she realized that she had noticed a lot of details about his appearance, so he would probably become plot relevant very soon.

Suddenly, the battlefield erupted into an uproar of shouting and screaming as a very tall World Eater appeared. No, too tall to be an Astartes, Lupa quickly realized. This was their general, maybe even a traitor Primarch. She wasn’t quite sure. Whatever the man was, he was horrifying and daemonic. She trembled at the sight of him. He was 10 feet tall and had long, wiry nails in his head. He radiated pure rage and hatred. This wasn’t good. Suddenly, she saw the Ultramarine’s ship fly overhead, some serfs were loading up the cannons. 

“Lupa!” The guardswoman heard a familiar shout. It was Cato. Thank Throne. She ran up to him. 

“Cato! There’s a Primarch-sized man on the battlefield! He’s tearing my soldiers apart!” Lupa shouted frantically. 

Cato looked over. “Shit.” Without a second thought, he handed his phone to Lupa. “Call Gulliman. Right now. That’s the traitor Primarch, Angron. And not even the Victrix Guard stands a chance against him.” He looked away. “But maybe I might.” He ran off. 

“Cato, no!” Lupa watched him charge towards Angron. As much as she wanted to help, she had to follow his orders. Frantically, she called Gulliman. No response. She left multiple voicemails, each more frantic than the last, then she went to help. 

Cato was locked in combat with Angron. But he was fighting a losing battle. Although the duke was swift and landed each blow with ease, Angron was far more powerful. 

  
“INCOMING!” A voice from above shouted. Suddenly, the battlefield started being bombarded with ice cream. Half of it was vanilla, the other half was mint-chocolate. It smelled like the expensive kind. Cato was rumored to be quite wealthy due to being a nobleman. Was this what he spent his money on? Ice cream sculptures? Lupa wasn’t surprised in the slightest. 

“AHHHHHH OH GODS ITS SO COLD!” One of the World Eaters shouted. “I’M GETTING BRAIN-FREEZE!” 

Suddenly, Lupa realized something. Those nails seemed to connect all the way to the World Eater’s brains. And metal was a great thermal conductor. This plan had turned out much better than expected. 

Angron gritted his teeth in frustration. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?” He wiped some ice cream off his armor and licked it off his palm. “MINT CHIP!? ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY!? YOU DISGUST ME! WHO THE FUCK EATS MINT CHIP!?” 

Cato smirked. “I have great taste, don’t I?” He landed an uppercut in the brief moment Angron was distracted. 

Lupa suddenly came up with a plan. Angron’s nails must be in his skull, and if she could rip one out, it would take a chunk of his brain out. If she could rip off one of the nails on his forehead- then she could sever the connection to his frontal lobe. Which she vaguely knew the location of. She just needed to wait for the right moment. 

Angron and Cato continued to fight as the World Eaters were hunched over and nearly paralyzed from brain freeze. The Khorne cultists, meanwhile, were all dead. They had succumbed much quicker than their Astartes counterparts. 

“AGHHHH!” Angron screamed as Cato kicked him hard in the knee, causing him to recoil. In the heat of the moment, Lupa jumped onto the Primarch and grabbed a nail on his forehead. With sheer force, she ripped it out of his skull, pulling out a small chunk of his brain. The lumbering giant of a man collapsed to the ground, briefly losing consciousness. Angron’s legion had been defeated- for now. 

“Regroup…” Angron groaned weakly as he slowly opened his eyes. And in a flash, he and the surviving World Eaters escaped out a portal, back into The Warp. 

“It’s over…” Cato exhaled as he looked off into the distance. “I did it... I defeated Angron.” 

“Well actually we-” Lupa sighed and gently grasped Cato’s hand. She noticed that his gaze was fixated on the bloody, gorey battlefield. “Cato, look into my eyes please.” 

Cato looked down at her. “Thank you.” He said, panting. “I owe you my life.” He gently leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. His eyes were filled with centuries of pain. He had seen this sight time and time again. She could see it in his gaze. 

“Cato, what do you see?” She gently asked the duke in an attempt to pull him back into reality. 

“I see blood… And guts. Some… Weapons on the ground. Corpses everywhere…” 

“What else do you see?” 

“The love of my life...” He signed deeply and pulled Lupa into a hug. “Please don’t leave me tonight.” He whispered. 

“I won’t.” Lupa nuzzled him on the neck and the two embraced for what felt like forever. And then she pulled back. “Hey, do you still have some ice cream left? Wanna build a snowman somewhere away from the battlefield?” 

“I would like that very much.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Gulliman finally arrived on the planet. When he came out, he saw a bloodied battlefield to his right, and Cato and Lupa building a snowman on the left. He quickly ran up to the two. “What the hell happened?!” 

Lupa gently smiled. “Well- Funny story…”


	22. Turf War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gulliman has a big misunderstanding about academic feminism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter is a parody of a particular genre of 1970’s speculative fiction. Any resemblance to real-life people or events is purely coincidental. Also, radical feminism and regular feminism are two completely different things. This is not a critique of regular feminism. 
> 
> CW for references to abuse, transphobia, and sexual harassment

Several people were gathered in one of Gulliman’s many meeting rooms in the Imperial Palace. 

“Alright, Cygnus. I know I got off to a rocky start with you. So I’d like to reintroduce myself. I’m your brother, Roboute Gulliman. I love you very much, and I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused you.” 

Cygnus got back on her phone, with an expression that said ‘I don’t give a shit’, until she started laughing at a meme that Fulgrim airdropped her. 

“Okay: question.” Magnus’s hands were neatly folded on the long, metal table. “Why are there Ultramarines here?” 

“I’m getting to that. Let me finish.” Gulliman continued. “The Imperium has been having issues with the planet of Femos.”

“You mean that planet where it’s illegal to be male?” Yvraine asked. 

“Wait, what?” Beowulf raised an eyebrow. 

Fulgrim smirked. “Yeah. It’s this planet that was colonized by radical feminists a few centuries ago. I heard that everyone there is a lesbian and scissors each other in massive scissor piles.” 

Magnus immediately rebutted that. “Fulgrim… That’s not quite true.” He looked over at Beowulf. “You see, Beowulf. Femos is inhabited by radical feminists. Who practice political lesbianism. Which is a philosophy that women should only have sexual and/or romantic relationships with other women, regardless of their true sexuality.” 

“Yeah, Magnus. That’s what I said.” Fulgrim rolled his eyes. 

Yvraine tried to keep everyone on topic. “Anyways, Gulliman. What problem do you have with this planet exactly?” 

“Their beliefs aren’t of any concern to me as long as they don’t try to push them onto the rest of The Imperium. The problem is that they cut off all trade to The Imperium. Which is deeply problematic since they produce resources essential to the survival of nearby planets. Without Imperial intervention, this embargo will cause millions to starve. And since their primary export is pharmaceuticals, it could cause even more deaths from disease.” He paused and took a good look at everyone sitting at the table. “Which is why I gathered you all here today. This is a very special diplomacy mission, so I’ve picked you all for your unique attributes.” 

Gulliman addressed everyone at the table clockwise. “Cato, you respect women. Your chivalry makes you a great ambassador for your sex. Lupa, you are a woman, and you happened to be here today.” 

Lupa smiled. “Always glad to be places!”

The blonde primarch continued. “Magnus, your intelligence will be very helpful on this mission. Beowulf, you’re a gentle and approachable empath. Even the most androphobic of women will be calm in your presence.” 

Gulliman walked over to a young, white-haired Ultramarine. “And this young man right here is Sol Del’Argente, chaplain of the Victrix Guard. His play-by-the-books style is what got him into the guard at the young age of 285. He’s actually even stricter than Cato when it comes to following the Codex.” 

Cato smiled. “There’s my right-hand man.” 

“Sol here was actually born into the Adepta Soroitas. At the age of 11, the Imperium’s doctors realized his gender dysphoria would prevent him from properly serving his duties as a Sister of Battle, so they decided to have him become a Space Marine instead. Having lived life as both a female and a male, he can see both sides of the coin.”

Gulliman then turned to Cygnus. “And finally, Cygnus is a woman who used to be a man. Feminists support LGBT people, right? So radical feminists must support them even more. And Cygnus right here is both transgender, and a lesbian. They’re going to love her!”    
  
“Seems like a solid plan to me.” Magnus commented. 

“Wait, why is Fulgrim here?” Beowulf asked. 

“Oh. I’m just here because the meeting room has those sugar cookies. The ones with the pink frosting that are like, really fluffy but also really dense at the same time. And the sprinkles on top. What do you think they put in that shit?” Fulgrim said. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soon, the ship landed at Femos. Everyone walked out. Gulliman, Cygnus, and Yvraine leading the way. They all walked down a path leading to the capitol building. A tall, middle aged, taciturn woman stood at the top of the stairs. She wore a pants suit and had short, choppy bangs. 

“Greetings, Lord Gulliman. I take it these are the only two women you know?” She said in a snarky tone. 

“Make that three!” Lupa shouted, obscured by Gulliman’s massive body. 

Gulliman gently tapped the guardswoman with his heel from behind, as if telling her to be quiet. “Ah, I get it.” He smiled. “Anyways, we are here to discuss a trade deal. Is there anything you’d like us to know before proceeding?” 

“Yes. All male visitors are required to be accompanied by at least three or more guards at all times.” She gestured towards five tall, muscular women with cybernetic enhancements. “These will be your escorts.” 

Two of the guards stood on either side of Sol. 

“Chaperones? I’m flattered.” He smirked. 

One of the guards charged her robotic arm with a surge of kinetic energy and punched him hard in the crotch, denting his armor slightly. 

Sol just blinked. “Umm… Ouch?”

The guard raised an eyebrow. 

“Keep it in your pants.” The woman muttered. “Anyways. Follow me.” She walked down a wide corridor, poised posture, arms folded neatly behind her back. She then led the group to a large auditorium, much like a college lecture hall. She stood at the front stage. Everyone else sat in the front row. 

“Let me introduce myself in case any of you are unfamiliar with me. I am Ramon Blanchart, the prime minister of this planet. 

Fulgrim stood up out of his chair. “My name’s Fulgrim, and I’m an alcoholic.” 

Magnus elbowed the Slaaneshi daemon and pointed to the other side of the room. “OOOH look, what’s that? Pink fluffy cookies!” He whispered. 

“OOOH!” Fulgrim slithered over without another word and proceeded to stuff his face. 

Gulliman let out a sigh of relief. “Let me introduce you to my party.” He stood up. “The man eating cookies over there is Fulgrim. He isn’t here for political reasons. He just snuck onboard because we had cookies.” He proceeded to introduce everyone else who was sitting down. “This is Cato Sicarius, a very affable and noble man. These are Magnus and Beowulf, my psykers. This is Lupa, esteemed guardswoman Captain of Fenris. This is Yvraine, a great strategist and leader. The primarch then walked over to where Sol and Cygnus were sitting. 

“And finally, these two.” Roboute stood between the two and smiled. “This is Sol Del’Argente, an esteemed member of the Ultramarine’s Victrix Guard. He was born into the Adeptas Sororitas and was set to become a Sister of Battle. That was, until The Imperium’s doctors decided his gender dysphoria would get in the way of him becoming a Soroita, so they decided to let him live his life as a man and join the Space Marines. I’ve decided to bring him with me since he knows both sides of the coin and is a great mediator when it comes to gender-related issues. On the flip-side. Here is Cygnus, one of the missing Primarchs. She was born male and presented as such. But apparently some time after the Horus Heresy she transitioned into a woman. I also have high expectations for her as a mediator.” 

Ramon seemed speechless for a few moments after Roboute’s monologue, but then started laughing. “You really are clueless about our beliefs, aren’t you, Roboute. I’m disgusted at how your Imperium has mutilated these two poor, mentally ill fools. But I’m more impressed than disgusted at your foolishness.” 

Sol furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry. What did you just say about me?” 

“I’m sorry. Let me put these into words you can understand. The Imperium’s healthcare system has failed you. Rather than telling you it’s alright to be a woman, they simply pumped you full of testosterone and Astartes geneseed until you mutated into something that vaguely resembled a man.” She said to the beefy, bearded, 7-foot tall Space Marine. “And it’s a shame too. Because you’re so handsome. If only you could see who you really are- a beautiful lesbian.” 

“Me… Handsome?” Sol mused under his breath. 

Ramon turned to Cygnus. “And as for you, Cygnus. You really think you’re a woman?” 

The pirate primarch crossed her arms and frowned. “Yes. I know I’m a woman. Just like how you know you’re a woman. And Roboute knows he’s a man.” 

The prime minister laughed. “Yes. And just like how someone suffering from psychosis knows they’re a dolphin.” She shook her head. “Let’s face it, Cygnus. You’re an abomination. You’re a walking caricature of womanhood. You think that just because you have breasts and lipstick, that means you’re a woman.” 

“No. I’m a woman because I feel like a woman.” Cygnus rebutted. 

“Oh please. You wouldn’t last a day as a real woman. You’ve never even gotten your period before.” 

Cygnus stood up and slammed her robotic hand down on the table. “Don’t be so quick to assume things about me, asshole. I happen to be on my period right now. My uterus feels like it’s being squeezed by an iron fist. I’m bloated, my legs are sore, and I’m absolutely starving. But none of that makes me a woman.” 

“Ah, the miracle of science.” Ramon shook her head. “But it still doesn’t change the fact that you were born a man. And thus, you’ll always be tainted by poison that is manhood.” 

Sol suddenly noticed all the cleavage in the room. “Wait, Ramon. Hold on.” 

Ramon turned around. “Yes Sol?” She inquired, in a much more respectful tone than how she addressed Cygnus. 

“If manhood is poison, then do you think that I’m disgusting?” Sol fake-frowned. 

“Oh sweetheart.” Ramon said in an understanding, caring tone. “You were never a man in the first place. Those hormones they pumped into you just made you incredibly… muscular and handsome. Things that society thinks only a man can be, so they turned you into a male stereotype. You’re still a woman, through and through. Plenty of women have big muscles and beards due to hormonal problems, or whatever. A woman can be whatever she wants.” 

Sol’s eyes darted around the room. The guards were all looking at him with lustful intent. And he wanted to bone them all. The Astartes geneseed may suppress the urges of a normal man. But for whatever reason, it didn’t work on Sol. Probably because he has a vagina. He looked around some more. Cygnus seemed disgusted and appalled. Fulgrim finished the cookies on the table and had moved on to the box of donuts. Everyone else looked confused as fuck. There was no way to salvage this. He convinced himself that the only way to solve this diplomatic crisis was to make a scene and get massive amounts of poon. 

“EVERYBODY!” Sol announced. “I HAVE ANNOUNCED THAT I AM FINALLY DETRANSITIONING. I HAVE REALIZED HOW I’VE BEEN VICTIMIZED BY THE IMPERIUM’S PATRIARCHAL MEDICAL SYSTEM. I’M A BUTCH LESBIAN, I’VE ALWAYS BEEN A LESBIAN ALL ALONG!” He started sobbing. Due to the hypno-therapy that Astartes are required to take, he was able to control his body’s involuntary functions- which included crying. “GUARDS, TAKE THESE EVIL *sob* PEOPLE AWAY!” He pointed at Gulliman accusingly. 

Gulliman seemed confused, and a little betrayed. 

Sol wiped his tears. “But *hic* first, can I have a moment alone with my abuser to confront him one last time?” 

Ramon put a gentle hand on Sol’s shoulder. “Sure, pal. Anything to help you face your demons once and for all and move on with your life.” 

The Ultramarine walked over to Gulliman, grabbed his wrist, then walked him over to the table on the other side of the room with all the food on it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Roboute asked in an accusing whisper.

“Look. I’ve dealt with these kinds of people before.” Sol explained. “They don’t respond to logic. Give me an hour with these broads, and I’m sure I can play the victim and convince them to go through with this trade deal.” 

Gulliman sighed heavily. “That might be our only option at this point. Don’t fuck it up, Sol.” 

“Of course, sir.” His expression changed. “I’M GOING TO DO TO YOU WHAT I SHOULD’VE DONE A LONG TIME AGO!” Sol shouted loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. He kneed Gulliman in the crotch, trying to be gentle. 

Gulliman fell on his knees and wheezed. “MY FAMILY JEWELS. DAMMIT SOL I'M TRYING TO HAVE AN HEIR HERE!” 

“Sorry sir. Didn’t know it would hurt that much” he said in a hushed whisper. He looked back to Ramon and walked over to her, his head hung low. 

Ramon smirked. “Gulliman, Cato, Magnus, Beowulf, Fulgrim, and Cygnus. Come with me please.” Everyone reluctantly followed her out of the room. “I’ll be back, handsome!” She winked before leaving with Cygnus, the men, and half her guards. 

Yvraine gave Lupa a weird look. “They really only arrested the men and Cygnus?” 

“Wow. Sexism much?” Lupa smirked. “Hey. Let’s bust them out of prison.” 

The Eldar woman thought about it for a moment. “Let’s not go that far just yet. But following them might be a good idea, just in case.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ramon led the way. “You’re lucky you’re too risky to actually keep a prisoner of war, Gulliman. We’ll just keep you and your shitty sexist friends here for a few hours. And then you’ll get off Scot-free once the negotiations with the women are over.” 

Gulliman swallowed his pride. “I apologize, Prime Minister. I should’ve let the women handle this from the start.” As much as he wanted to kick her ass, the lives of millions were on the line. 

“Good. Now stay in your cell please.” Ramon and her guards walked away, leaving Cygnus and the guys alone in a tiny cell. 

Meanwhile, Magnus seemed absolutely pissed off. 

“Magnus, you’re angry.” Beowulf wrapped his arms around the daemon prince and gave him a big hug. 

“Sorry”, Magnus exhaled. He looked over to Gulliman. “Honestly, I’m shocked at how much you can take from these people.” 

Gulliman sighed. “I’ve learned that I need to keep my cool for the sake of the people. But still, I’m proud of all of you for not going apeshit. Thank you.” 

“Don’t worry.” Beowulf assured. “If it makes you feel any better, Beowulf and Yvraine are safe. I can sense it.” 

“Wait a minute.” Cygnus looked around. “Where’s Fulgrim?” 

“Shit.” Magnus said under his breath. 

“Magnus, can you use your powers to get us out of this cell please?” Gulliman asked. 

“With pleasure, brother.” He seethed. The mage instantly teleported them right outside the cell. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fulgrim had wandered off from the group, somehow unnoticed. He slithered around the corridors of the underground dungeon, exploring. He was drawn to something. Some sort of arcane force. He figured that since this was a planet full of women, it was probably crawling with pussy. His lust and hubris eventually led him to a dimly-lit room deep within the dungeon. It reeked of mold and mildew. The cool, humid air cased his nose to get stuffy and cold. But still, he was attracted to some secret force. And then he saw something sublime- Two large marble statues. One depicting a pregnant, horned woman with a tunic made of leaves. She held up a crying newborn baby in one hand. And in the other hand, she held a dead baby. Upon further examination, the dead baby was male, and the crying baby was female. He was appalled, but not surprised. The other statue depicted a winged woman holding a book in one hand, and a winged eyeball in the other. He saw a cloaked figure out of the corner of his eye. 

The Slaaneshi daemon turned around. “Excuse me. Who are these two?” He asked the woman. 

The cloaked woman hesitated for a moment. “Normally, I wouldn’t tell an outsider. But since you’re a daemon of Slaanesh, I don’t see you as the snitching type.” She pointed to the two statues. These are the two goddesses of our planet.”

“Beautiful…” Fulgrim mused. “Please, tell me more.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Lupa and Yvraine walked along the vast streets of the city. It was quite remarkable. The cobblestone streets were clean and immaculate, there were shops and market stands lining the edges of the sidewalks, friendly-faced merchants selling various goods. 

Lupa happily skipped around, in awe of everything. “Look at this planet! It’s beautiful! Let’s go shopping! Ooh, I bet there’s a place that sells ice cream, we totes gotta buy ice cream and-” 

Yvraine put a firm hand on the Fenrisian’s shoulder. “Focus, Lupa. Our boyfriends are in prison.” 

The Astartes grinned. “Yeah but, ya really think bustin ‘em out would be a good idea? I mean, Cato and Gulliman are the two strongest people I’ve ever met. They can bust themselves out if they want. Ya really think a planet without Astartes would have the technology to contain 4 primarchs and 2 Ultramarines?” 

The eldar sighed. “I guess you’re right. Maybe we should stay out of these affairs for now.” 

“Great! With an attitude like that, this chapter will for sure pass the Bechdel Test!” Lupa started skipping again. 

Yvraine raised an eyebrow and followed her. “Uhh- What?”

“Excuse me.” A strange shopkeeper stopped the two as they walked along. 

“Who, me?” Lupa asked. 

“Yes, you.” The shopkeeper had an unnerving energy about her. “You’re heterosexual, are you not?” 

Lupa opened her mouth in surprise. “Wow! How could ya tell!?”

“I have my ways.” The shopkeeper gestured towards a servitor. The servitor was a handsome, well-groomed man in his mid 20’s. He wore a well-tailored butler’s uniform that accentuated his lean, muscular body, and had a blank look on his face. “This here is the SE-5X-40500, the latest and greatest model of companion servitors.” 

The wolfy woman seemed uncomfortable. “I’m sorry- A… Companion servitor?” 

“I assume you’re new to this planet.” The shopkeeper continued. “This is a companion servitor. A servitor specifically bred to be the male companions of heterosexual women. Sure, it’s a man, but they’re legal to have since they’re genetically engineered to be unable to physically harm a woman. This servitor will love you unconditionally and never hurt you, unlike a real man. Go on, try it.” 

Lupa hesitantly walked up to the servitor. “Hello there um- I’m Lupa from the planet Fenris.” 

The servitor suddenly started and faced Lupa. “Ah, hello there, Lupa. I’m the SE-5X-40500. Pleased to meet you. He smiled gently. “But enough about me, tell me more about you. You seem like a lovely, interesting woman, and I would be honored to know you better.” 

This wasn’t like any servitor she had ever seen before. He seemingly had few transhuman modifications, and his speech was so articulate and smooth. She turned to the shopkeeper. “I’m sorry, but how are these servitors made exactly? I’ve never seen anything like this on my home planet.” She needed to lie to make her question less suspicious. “Because now I’m pretty interested in buying this model. I just want to make sure it won’t hurt me like men have in the past.” 

“Oh well. We grow these in vats like normal servitors. But unlike a lot of other servitors, these are actually somewhat self-aware and intelligent. They are capable of feeling and expressing empathy. But they are specially programmed to be unable to have their own hobbies and interests outside of their masters. And they cannot feel anger or aggression. The only thing they can feel is love. 

Lupa furrowed her brow. She was absolutely horrified at the sight that lay before her. “Ew! That’s so gross! You guys are really okay with lobotomizing men and doing Throne knows what with them!?” 

The shopkeeper seemed unfazed. “They’re not sentient, my dear. They simply exist to please their masters.” 

The guardswoman snapped. “I'M GONNA KICK YOU IN THE CUN-” 

Yvraine quickly covered Lupa’s mouth and restrained her before she could say anything else. “Have a wonderful day, ms.” She ran off and set Lupa aside. 

“Hey! What was that for? I didn’t get a chance to kick her in the pussy!” 

Yvraine sighed. “Look, I know you’re upset. We can deal with this later. But right now, the lives of millions of people are at stake. Diplomacy comes before anything else here.” 

Lupa sighed. “Alright. Fine.” 

“Also. I have to go to the bathroom. Very badly. You’re coming in with me so I can keep my eye on you.” 

“No!” Lupa frowned. 

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to stand outside the stall then while I go.” 

“Why couldn’t you pee earlier!?” 

“Because I just now realized that I have to pee.” 

Lupa rolled her eyes. “Geez, you’re acting like my mom whenever she was pregnant. Which was most of the time. My dad would knock her up whenever she got the chance. I think she had a pregnancy fetish or something??? I dunno, I had to look after 12 siblings since I was the oldest by like 6 years. This one time when she was pregnant with my brother, Fang, she would just go outside at 3am and eat snow. Like, right off the ground. I don’t know why. Pregnant chicks are just weird like that I guess. And then one time she-” 

“LUPA! I am about to piss myself.” She grabbed the guardswoman by the wrist and dragged her to the nearest public restroom. Lupa muttered something under her breath as she waited outside the stall. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cloaked woman pointed to the statue of the first woman. “That’s Nurgette. She’s the goddess of life and death. You see, women are the sole creators of life. Men only contribute a few cells. Luckily though, we are able to replicate those cells in our lab, so natural birth is rare. If a woman on this planet does have a male baby, whether impregnated by a servitor or outsider, we sacrifice them to Nurgette so they can be made into something useful. 

Fulgrim frowned. “Are men not useful?” 

“You’re a man, so I don’t think you’d understand.” The woman frowned. 

“Oh. Actually, I’m not a woman. I’m actually a non-binary attack helicoptor daemonette”, he said with a hint of sarcasm. “I’m biologically a woman. But I was indoctrinated by the trans cult that says if girls like boy things, that means they’re boys and they must break their ribs with chest binders in order to please the patriarchy.” Fulgrim tasted a little bit of bile in the back of his throat. He wanted to kick himself in the cunt after repeating the weird transphobic rhetoric he found on the internet while LARPing as a 40 year old housewife in order to secure some good MILF coochie. 

“I see.” The woman continued. “Anyways, men are not useful, not because they can’t produce life. But because they hinder progress. Men start wars and famines. Men hate and put down others for the most arbitrary of reasons. Men are a plague upon humanity. Which is why our planet has flourished without them.” 

“I see.” Fulgrim nodded. 

“Anyways. This is our other goddess, Sneech-Chan.” The mysterious woman gestured towards a sculpture of a winged woman reading a book. 

The Slaaneshi prince squinted. “Just out of curiosity. What is that book she’s reading? Anything in particular?” 

“Why, that is Harry Potter! Our sacred book series! Harry Potter is the most sacred book to radical feminists!” 

Fulgrim paused for a moment. “Okay. Let me get this straight. A children’s book. That follows the standard ‘Hero’s Journey’ template. With a male protagonist. And all the main characters are men. With hardly any female representation. And when there are female characters, they’re reduced to merely being sidekicks, despite many of them being smarter and more competent than characters in higher positions of power. In a book series that does nothing to challenge the status quo. In a book series where the main female character tries to dismantle the institution of SLAVERY, and gets portrayed as a whiny, naggy bitch because she’s challenging the status quo. I just- How do you justify any of that as being a feminist allegory?” 

“Because the author hates trans women.” The woman replied. 

Fulgrim shrugged. “Oh okay. That makes sense.” 

“Anyways, Sneech-Chan is the goddess of wisdom and fate. When she’s happy, she will bring good fortune to our people. But when something upsets her, she will bring pain and suffering to our people.” 

Fulgrim nodded and scratched his chin. “Yes, I see.” He suddenly realized something: This was a Chaos cult. This radical feminist nightmare hellhole was a daemonic cult. Not that he really minded. It was just- his siblings could be in danger. He needed to tell someone- and quick. “Uhh- I’m going to- Get a space burrito uh- Goodbye.” And then he ran off, through the labyrinth of the catacombs, through the prisons, and concrete rooms, and that one Space Bed, Bath, and Beyond that had just gone out of business. He needed to tell someone- Anyone that would believe him. 

Even if it meant disobeying Chaos. 


	23. Nobody expects it!

“Quit hogging all the champagne.” 

“Hold on. I’m as heavy as a horse you know. It takes a lot for me to get buzzed.” Fulgrim said as he took one last sip and passed the bottle off to Ferrus. 

“I’m just as heavy as you, ya know.” He playfully elbowed Fulgrim. “We don’t have all day.” 

“We don’t have all day, brother. But we do have all eternity. So why not savor each moment?” Fulgrim’s eyes glistened in the dim light filtering from the sheets of the blanket fort the two of them had made in Ferrus’s room. 

Ferrus frowned. “You really think we have all of eternity?” 

Fulgrim gently ran his well-manicured fingers through Ferrus’s short, stubbly hair. “Do my ears deceive me, or is the perfect and infallible Ferrus Manus doubting himself?” 

He shook his head. “No. Eternity just seems like a very long time. Longer than I can foresee.” 

The white-haired primarch smiled. “And that’s the fun part! We can afford to waste time! Isn’t that wonderful, Ferrus?” 

“I’m honestly jealous of you. Fulgrim.” 

Fulgrim’s plump lips formed into a devious smirk. “Oh? And why’s that?” 

“Because you’ve clearly had way more to drink than me.” 

Fulgrim laughed a haughty laugh. “Oh Ferrus! Don’t you ever change!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yvraine! Are you done yet? I’m BOOOOOOOOOORED!” Lupa whined as she pounded on the door of the stall. 

“I just sat down, Lupa! Gods!” 

Suddenly, Fulgrim burst into the bathroom. “GUYS, THIS PLANET’S INHABITANTS ARE WORSHIPPING TZEENTCH AND NURGLE!” 

“Eww! You can’t be in here, Fulgrim! You’re a boy!” Lupa shrieked. 

“Oh right. Sorry about that.” Fulgrim stuck his hand under his chestplate and pulled off his Hatsune Miku binder. “There. I’m a chick now or whatever.” 

“Why were you wearing a Miku binder!?” 

“Oh. I bought it in the lobby at the movie theater when the Hamilton reboot came out a few thousand years ago.” Fulgrim casually said. 

Lupa nodded. “Oh okay. That makes sense.” 

The serpentine primarch shook his head. “Anyways, we need to find the guys. They should be in the dungeon nearby.” 

Yvraine opened the stall door and went to go wash her hands. “I can sense them nearby. Follow my lead.” When she was done, she quickly dried them. 

“Whoa! We’re doing a jailbreak? Fuck yeah!” Lupa was excited. 

“We have no time to waste.” Yvraine led the way and everyone followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus paced around the cell. “Something is amiss, I can feel it.” 

Cygnus rolled her eye. “Yeah, no shit. We’re on a planet inhabited by terfs. I’d feel something amiss too if I had psychic powers.” 

He shook his head. “No. Not that. Something much more sinister. Dare I say, a strong chaotic energy.” 

“Should we break out?” Cato asked. 

“Too risky.” Magnus sat down in the corner and closed his eyes. “I’m going to project myself to Lupa and Yvraine.” 

As Lupa, Yvraine, and Fulgrim were running towards the dungeon, an astral projection of Magnus suddenly manifested in front of them. “I need to ask- Have you sensed anything chaotic recently?” 

“Yes, brother!” Fulgrim said with urgency. “The inhabitants of this planet are worshipping Tzeentch and Nurgle! There’s giant statues of the two near the dungeon! And they have massive tits!”    
  


“Just as I thought…” Magnus mused. “Keep on high alert and find Sol. We can break out of this prison ourselves, we’ll be fine.” 

Yvraine nodded .“Understood.” 

Magnus’s projection faded away and opened his eye. He stood up and faced Gulliman. “The inhabitants of this planet are Tzeentch and Nurgle cultists. We need to break out.” 

Gulliman gazed at Magnus suspiciously. “I’m still not fully convinced of your loyalty, Magnus. What do you think is going to happen to you when Tzeentch finds out you’re helping the Imperium behind his back?” 

The red primarch frowned. “Foolish of you to think Tzeentch isn’t aware of my actions.” He put a firm hand on Gulliman’s shoulder and looked so far into his eyes that he could see his brother’s soul. “I’m willing to risk my life to defy Tzeentch. As much as I despise you and your Imperium, I have seen that helping you is the only way I can avenge my people. I’ve fought this losing battle for far too long.” He put his hand down. “Gulliman, you are my last hope. I will follow you into battle if it means saving my people.” Of course, Magnus's words were mostly based on lies. He’d sell Gulliman’s soul to a Chaos god for a corn chip if he could. But the part about saving his people was true. He’d do anything for his people- even if it meant swallowing his immense pride. 

Gulliman sighed. “I will put my trust in you, Magnus.” He turned around to face everyone else. “We’re breaking out.” 

“Hold on!” Cato took out his Codex Astartes. “According to the Codex Astartes-” 

“Can I see that?” Gulliman asked. 

“Sure, m’lord.” Cato handed the book to his primarch. 

Gulliman glanced at the cover. “GOOD LORD! When did the 9th edition come out? It’s only been three years since the 8th edition has been out!” He shook his head. “Anyways…” The blonde primarch ripped the codex in half. “This book has caused me nothing but trouble.” 

Cato’s jaw was agape. “Sir!” 

Roboute grabbed the bars of the jail cell and bent them away. “We don’t need these rigid rules holding us back, Cato. What we need is compassion and understanding. That was the reason why Father’s plans failed. He may have been a great strategist- but power and intelligence is useless if you can’t understand your fellow man. Authority is useless if everyone under you despises you.” He walked out and looked back. “Now come on. Let’s show Chaos the power of unity and solidarity.” 

Cato was the first to walk out. “Lord Gulliman, I may not understand. But I will follow you into the Eye of Terror if it means defeating the forces of Chaos.” 

One-by-one, Gulliman’s allies walked out of their cell. The guards of the dungeon scrambled around, barking orders. Magnus had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Yvraine and friends ran towards the capitol building, the sky above started to darken. Even though it was noon. The Eldar knew what was going on- a space-time disturbance, which meant a portal to The Warp would soon open. Upon making it to the building, she wasted no time running inside. 

Sol Del’Argente, chaplain of the Victrix Guard, was sitting on a makeshift throne, half-naked, with several other barely-clothed women surrounding him. “Yvraine?” He asked curiously as Yvraine and her party barged in. 

“Sol, put your fucking clothes on. There’s about to be a war!” She shouted. 

Sol frowned. “But they just crowned me King Lesbian!” He whined. 

Yvraine rolled her eyes. “You can’t be King Lesbian, Sol, because men can’t be lesbians!” 

“Wow! What cognitive dissonance!” One of the women in Sol’s harem sneered. “So you agree that Cygnus isn’t a lesbian then?” 

“No. She’s definitely a lesbian.” Fulgrim replied. “I mean, have you seen her fashion choices? And also the way she eats spaghetti. Sol on the other hand, is clearly a man.” 

“Then why does Sol have a pussy!?” Another member of Sol’s harem questioned. 

“Because he’s a fucking king.” Fulgrim replied. “Anyways, get the fuck out of here and go scissor a real woman, you nasty Nurgle worshippers!” 

Sol got up from his throne and sighed. “Nurgle worshippers you say?” He slapped one of the women on the ass. “You’ve been a very naughty girl.” He then started to put his armor back on. “Alright. I’ll meet you all outside.”

By the time they were outside, Warp portals were already starting to open up. Daemons of Tzeentch and Nurgle started to pour out. Some of the most powerful people in the galaxy were on this planet, but it still wouldn’t be enough. Soon Yvraine and her allies would be outnumbered a bajillion to one. There were about 7 gajillion daemons standing in front of the capitol building. Each as powerful as they were ravenous. She noticed Gulliman and his party off in the distance, hacking and slashing their way through zillions of daemons. She got out her sword and did the same, narrowing the gap in between the two parties until they were one. “Any chance of backup?” 

Magnus seemed all too confident. “I have a plan. But I cannot reveal it until the last moment.” 

Yvraine could sense Gulliman’s distrust in Magnus, but she could also sense that Magnus was right- she hoped. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cato let out a sigh of relief as he finally found Lupa. “There you are.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Stand by my side, I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Lupa frowned. “You’re reckless too, Cato.” 

“I know. But my recklessness is a series of quick calculations, you lack the experience to have my level of judgment.” He slashed a nearby daemon with his mighty sword. 

“In a hundred years or so, I’ll be on your level, Cato!” Lupa shouted as she ripped out the spine of a daemon and impaled two others with it. 

“We’ll just see about that!” He said with a smirk as he drop-kicked a large nurgilite daemon and made an entire swarm fall down like dominoes. “Remember that I, Cato Sicarius, have a thirst for vengeance, the likes of which you’ve never seen!” 

As they fought, the ground below rumbled and shook violently, two enormous concrete hands squirmed and wiggled out of the ground, parting the earth and revealing themselves to be the statues of the two goddesses. 

“That has to be them!” Cato shouted. 

  
Lupa glared intently on what was ahead of her. “Shit…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the hell…” Gulliman muttered under his breath, panicked. 

“Avatars…” Magnus said. 

Fulgrim raised an eyebrow. “Like the shitty James Cameron movie?” 

Magnus shook his head. “No. I’ve heard Tzeentch mention it before- they’re incredibly powerful astral projections manifested into a tangible form. That is unmistakably the aura of Tzeentch. He and Nurgle must’ve infused these statues with chaotic energy long ago in preparation for this.” He looked out ahead. “We’re basically fighting a physical manifestation of two chaos gods.” 

Gulliman frowned. “Do you mind telling me your plan now!?” 

The red primarch put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You’ll see.” 

Fulgrim, in all honesty, didn’t want to fight. He wanted to stay out of this battle. His brother’s lives may have been at stake, but that wasn’t his problem. Was it? 

Gulliman and Magnus looked at each other and nodded in understanding. They both held their swords and stood their ground. 

“You’re no match for our powers, you writhing little maggots!” Tzeentch laughed as he flung Magnus and Gulliman up in the air. 

Quickly, Magnus used his telekinesis to grab ahold of Gulliman, but as he was doing so, Nurgle charged at Magnus with his sharp, filthy horns. In the heat of the moment, Fulgrim flew into the air and pushed his brothers out of the way. And in a flash it was over. In one fell swoop, Nurgle had slashed a hole through the serpentine primarch’s stomach, causing him to lose consciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Fulgrim finally came to, he awoke in a world of blackness. No- this was the Warp. Was he- 

“Fulgrim?” A familiar voice asked. 

“Hello?” He asked, his voice echoing across the seemingly wall-less room. 

“Brother…” The voice said, the source of it now closer than before. Slowly, a tall, armored man walked towards him. No…

“Ferrus!?” Fulgrim tried to run up and hug him, but his limbs wouldn’t work. Nothing would move. 

Ferrus stood over him, forlorn. “Fear not. You’re still alive.” 

“Ferrus!? Where am I!?” Fulgrim said in the tone not unlike that of a terrified child calling for their mother. “Why didn’t you come back?!” 

Ferrus’s expression was absolutely taciturn, but there seemed to be a deep feeling of sadness and remorse beyond his pupils. “I have nothing to come back to, Fulgrim.” 

“What do you mean!? What about me!? You were my best friend, Ferrus!” Tears began to flow freely from his eyes. 

Ferrus shook his head. “Your apology is meaningless to me, Fulgrim. You know, killing someone is usually a series wrap on a friendship.” 

“I didn’t mean to!” Fulgrim sobbed. “That was thousands of years ago! I regret it every single day! Please come back! Please!” 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. What you did to me was unforgivable.”    
  
“I’m better now! I’m not the man I used to be! I’ve changed!” 

Ferrus gazed back at Fulgrim with unforgiving eyes. “I know what you’ve been up to since the time that you killed me. And truthfully, I don’t think you’re a very good person. That’s what I meant when I said I have nothing to come back to. You’re not the man who I became best friends with. Nor will you ever be again. You’re going to have to live what you did for the rest of your life. I’m sorry, but I made my decision eons ago.” 

“WHAT WAS EVEN THE POINT OF YOU VISITING MY SOUL, IF YOU WEREN’T GOING TO TAKE ME BACK!” Fulgrim’s mascara began to run. “WHY DO YOU TORTURE ME SO?”

“I came to tell you that you can still change, Fulgrim. I don’t want to be your friend anymore, but I don’t want you to throw your life away. I want you to keep on living. Live with your mistakes and actually learn from them. Keep on striving to become a better person.” He started to walk away. 

“FERRUS!” Fulgrim was inconsolable.

Ferrus turned around. “Please take care of our brothers, Fulgrim. Do it for me. Please.” He then turned back around and walked off into the distance, never to be seen again. 

“NOOOOO!” He wailed, screaming into the void. There was no echo this time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh thank Throne you’re awake!” 

When Fulgrim came to (for real this time), Beowulf was kneeling over him. The battle was still raging on, either side of him was littered with corpses, with no end in sight. 

“What happened?” The daemon primarch asked weakly. 

“You took a fatal blow for your brothers… I kept trying to heal you, but your soul refused for the longest time. I was really worried that you were going to die out here.” Beowulf explained, concerned. 

“Everyone else… Are they okay?” He stood up and dusted himself off. 

“Yeah.” Beowulf frowned. “Although they’re fighting a losing battle. It will be a while before backup arrives. 

“Hey guys, backup is arriving!” Cato shouted off in the distance. 

Beowulf looked up at the sky. Sure enough, there were dozens of Imperial Fists and Space Wolves ships. “What!? The Ultramarines were supposed to arrive first! And they said it would take an entire day- not an hour!” 

Fulgrim blinked, surprised. “Do you think this is what Magnus meant when he said he had a plan?” 

“Ha! You call that a plan!?” Tzeentch laughed. “I foresaw that eons ago! Don’t be so naive, Magnus! I already know how this battle will end. You and your friends will all get crushed by Chaos and I will come out victorious.” 

The Imperial Fist and Space Wolves ships landed, and their respective Primarchs led the way, their Marines following closely behind. 

Magnus smirked. “You’re the naive one, Tzeentch. There’s one thing that you didn’t account for- that no psyker could ever account for.” 

“NOBODY EXPECTS THE IMPERIAL INQUISITION!” A strangely-dressed inquisitor said as he marched out of the Imperial Fist’s ship, thousands of inquisitors and sisters of silence following. “Hello there.” 

“General Obiwan!” Tzeentch shouted. 

“GET HIM!” Nurgle yelled, he started barking orders at his daemons. 

“That’s Inquisitor Obiwan Sherlock Clousseau to you!” He said with a devious smirk, twirling his two bolters around by the trigger. “Get him, sisters! FUCK THEM UP!” Not a moment later, the Sisters of Battle rushed out of the Space Wolves ship, followed by a pack of ravenous wulfen. 

“I’ve got an ace up my sleeve too!” Magnus declared. 

Cato batted his eyelashes. “Is it me?” 

“Shut the fuck up, Cato, you fucking meatshield.” Magnus said as he summoned a massive Warp Portal and summoned the Thousand Sons. All three chapters united against the forces of Tzeentch and Nurgle. For the first time ever, the Space Wolves and Thousand Sons fought alongside each other. Maybe the alliance was temporary, but for once, they set their differences aside to go against a common enemy. Magnus knew there would be no turning back now. He had already planned to burn this bridge long ago. It felt good. Cathartic even. 

“AGH FUCK!” Nurgle shouted as every psychic blank on the battlefield rushed over to the statues and started punching the shit out of them. “THIS DID NOT GO ACCORDING TO PLAN!”

“WELL IT DID UNTIL THE INQUISITION CAME!” He shrieked. 

“YOU DIDN’T EXPECT THE INQUISITION!?” Nurgle shouted back, his statue form almost completely crumbled despite his best efforts. 

“NOBODY EXPECTS THE INQUISITION, NURGLE!” With the last of his psychic might, Tzeentch waved his arm towards Gulliman, focusing a massive wave of chaotic energy at him. Magnus was of no use to him now, but if he could topple over The Imperium, then this charade would all be worth it. 

Gulliman screamed in agony as the energy hit him- it microwaved his organs and turned his insides to mush. In a flash, he was defeated- out like a light. 

“GULLIMAN!” Rogal shouted, furious. Few had ever seen Rogal Dorn angry before. Not even his own Space Marines. It was a terrifying sight, even for his closest companions. There was something jarring and utterly sublime about seeing such a calm, collected man become cloaked in a shroud of righteous fury. The primarch slashed through the daemons like butter and struck Tzeentch’s statue with a chainsword- then Nurgle’s. It was all over. 

But for Magnus, it was just beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gulliman slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Yvraine sitting next to his bedside. “Yvraine…?” He asked weakly. “How long was I out?” 

“Six months.” She replied, walking up to his bedside. 

“What happened?” 

“Your organs got fried and you were put in a medically-induced coma. They had to regrow all your innards in a vat. You were the only one who was seriously injured, luckily.” 

Gulliman suddenly shot out of bed, panicked. “THE BABY!” 

Yvraine gently grabbed Gulliman’s wrist and put his hand on her stomach. “She’s fine.” 

He let out a sigh of relief and sunk back into the soft hospital bed. Then he shot back up again. “THE IMPERIUM!” 

“Also fi-” And before Yvraine could even finish, Gulliman was gone. “Looks like he’s back to his old self again.” 


	24. Simp Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perturabo gets in deep shit

Several weeks had passed since the Battle of Femos. Fulgrim was now staying in the Imperial Palace, against Gulliman’s wishes. But, he was lonely. So most of the time he hung out with Magnus. 

“Oh Magnus, dear? Where do you think you’re going?” Fulgrim called out to Magnus- who had a large case strapped to his shoulders and was ready to go somewhere. 

“Sorry Fulgrim. You can’t come. It’s tabletop game night at Perturabo’s place.” 

“Ohhhhh but Magnus! You’re really going to leave me all alone in your library?” He pleaded. “Don’t you know what happened last time that happened?” 

“Yes. I remember when you used my 12th edition of John Harvey Kellogg’s, “The Living Temple” as a fleshlight and dipped it into a bowl of Corn Flakes. How could I not remember?” Magnus groaned and rolled his eye. “Okay fine, Fulgrim. You can come to Perturabo’s house with me. But be on your best behavior.” 

“Yay!” Fulgrim squealed. “You’re the best big brother ever, Magnus!” The serpentine primarch pecked him on the cheek. 

“Ugh. I’m starting to regret this already.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Perturabo! We’re here!” Magnus called out as he walked inside the house, Fulgrim trailing behind. There was no answer. Then he noticed Mortarion sitting on a couch, casually reading “The Myth of Sisyphus”. He looked over to his bald bitch of a brother. “Hey, where’s Perturabo?” 

Mortarion looked up from his book and shrugged. “He’s livestreaming some sort of game. He said he’ll be finished in a bit.” 

“Livestreaming?” Fulgrim raised an eyebrow. “Like what? A snuff film?” 

“A cogitator game I suppose.” Magnus replied. He looked around and suddenly realized that Fulgrim was nowhere to be seen. “Fulgrim? FULGRIM?” He sensed Fulgrim in Perturabo’s bedroom down the hall and went in. 

“Okay so, I’m going to equip the sword of fire and coal and then equip his mana slot with a burn charm. This will buff his burn ability and increase his average DPS by 20%, making him an absolute powerhouse.” Perturabo said into his mic as he played some shitty RPG on his gaming cogitator. There was some sort of webcam attached to the top of his cogitator. “And here’s my brother, Magnus joining in. Alright. That about wraps it up, tune in next time for another exciting stream.” He typed something into the command prompt on his cogitator and it shut down. Then he stood up and turned around. “Sorry about that. My livestream went on longer than anticipated.” 

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “You’re a streamer now?” 

“Only as a hobby. I have quite a few subs. Although streaming may sound simple, it’s actually quite a bit of work. But it’s very rewarding.” 

“I’m disappointed in you, Perty.” Fulgrim piped up. “You could’ve been an e-boy. But instead you’re a filthy gamer with cheeto fingers.” 

“Speaking of e-thots. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Perturabo opened the door to his room and went “pspspspspspsps” into the hallway. Like clockwork, a door in the hallway opened and a young woman skittered into perturabo’s room. 

“Nyaaaa~ Yes master?” 

Magnus and Fulgrim just stared at the sight before them- jaws agape. She was a short woman with cat ears, a bobbed haircut, and huge bazongas. 

Perturabo gestured towards the woman. “This is Galatea, my girlfriend. I commissioned Fabius Bile to make her to my exact specifications.” 

Fulgrim suddenly burst into laughter. “YOU COMMISSIONED FABIUS BILE TO MAKE YOU A GAMER GIRLFRIEND!?” He slapped his snee (snake knee) and quickly became hysterical. “I’m sorry- I need a minute.” 

Galatea frowned. 

“Uhh anyways…” Magnus pulled out his bag. “Let’s play some games.” 

Perturabo nodded. “Of course. We’re playing WarMachine, right?” 

“I was actually thinking we’d play Age of Sigmar tonight. Since Fulgrim is an utter neophyte when it comes to the world of wargaming.”    
  


“I AM NOT A SMALL CHILD!” Fulgrim snapped. 

“Neophyte as in n00b, Fulgrim.” Magnus groaned. 

“Oh.” 

And so, they started a game. As usual, Perturabo was in his element. Mortarion was also quite good. But when it came to Galatea- something was off. It was almost as if she was faking being terrible at the game. But every so often, she’d mess up and accidentally make a genius move. Eventually, his curiosity got the best of him and he dove deep into her mind. Sure enough, there was a wealth of strategic knowledge in there. Why didn’t she make use of it? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a quick 8 hour session of Age of Sigmar, things started to wind down. Magnus, Perturabo, and Mortarion all sat down on the couch and talked about Hegel or some shit, while Fulgrim peeked through the cupboards. 

“Whatcha doinnnnn~” Galatea asked with an innocent smile on her face. 

“Looking for ingredients to bake with. Why? Wanna help?” He smirked. 

“Sure! Nyuh- Wanna bake some sugar cookies? We got all the ingredients.” 

Fulgrim went over to the oven. “Sure, I’ll preheat the oven and grab the needed utensils. You get the ingredients.” He preheated the oven to 350 degrees and grabbed some bowls and measuring spoons. Galatea quickly got all the ingredients out and placed them next to all the bowls. And soon the two were baking. 

Fulgrim measured the flour and looked over at the catlike woman. “You know, it’s a shame you’re in a relationship. I could just eat you up.” 

Galatea put some sugar in a separate bowl. “Oh well, Perturabo and I are in an open relationship.” 

Fulgrim nearly dropped the measuring cup. “I’m sorry?” 

“Perturabo is asexual. And I am a very sexual little kittycat. So he lets me sleep with other people so I can get all the tinglies out of my pink parts.” She gently smiled. 

“PARDON!?” 

Galatea looked at Fulgrim with bedroom eyes. “You heard me.” 

“Oh. Oh….” 

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


“Damn, that was a good lay.” Fulgrim said after he finished boinking Galatea against the bathroom wall. 

He turned over to the sink and started pissing. 

Galatea frowned. “You uh- Wanna cuddle?” 

“Sorry. I don’t do cuddling.” Fulgrim zipped his fly- which was also made of flesh? “But you’re welcome to join me on the porch.” He put his hand on the doorknob. “Also, you might want to get yourself tested.” Then he casually walked down the hallway and into the living room. 

Perturabo looked at Fulgrim and frowned. “Fulgrim, did you have sex with my girlfriend?” 

“Is water wet? Because Galatea’s pussy is.” Fulgrim mumbled before slithering to the front porch. He then pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one, taking a long drag of it before exhaling. Damn, did that feel good. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus and Fulgrim left soon after. Magnus set his bag down on a nearby table and his library and yawned. “I should be getting to bed. Goodnight Fulgrim.” 

Fulgrim frowned. “Magnus, why do you let me sleep in the same bed as you?” 

The red primarch started to undress. “I know that you don’t like sleeping alone, Fulgrim.”

“Maybe so. But I thought you found me annoying.” He frowned. 

“Of course I find you annoying.” He smirked and folded his clothes once he had stripped down to his loincloth. “But you’re my brother. And at the end of the day, I love you.” The primarch paused. “Also. I’m an empath, Fulgrim. You don’t think I can pick up on the things that happen in your night terrors? I know for a fact that not all of them involve Ferrus.” He then walked over to his bed and slid under the covers. 

“Yeah…” Fulgrim sighed and slipped into his silk pajamas. A few minutes later, he crawled under the covers and curled up next to Magnus, who was already starting to drift off. He felt ashamed, knowing that Magnus had an idea what was going on outside of the palace. But at the same time he felt relieved. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


“Fulgrim, come here. You have to see this.” 

Fulgrim slowly opened his eyes. It was morning, and Magnus was sitting at his desk, reading something on his cogitator and sipping recaf. “Coming, Magnus.” The serpentine primarch slithered out of bed and looked over Magnus’s shoulder. 

Magnus was on some sort of website called “Squawkr”. Fulgrim was familiar with it. It was a popular social media site where people with really shitty opinions gathered to have discourse about irrelevant issues. Magnus actually had a page on there as well. Mostly where he engaged in academic discourse, and also re-squaked fanart of half-naked Homestuck trolls from time-to-time. 

The red warlock pointed to the screen. “So you know how Perturabo has that one egirl gamer girlfriend? People on Squawkr found out and now they’re calling him a simp.” 

“Whoa, really?” Fulgrim took a closer look. 

  
  
  


“Yeah.” Magnus continued. “What’s a Fanster?”

“Oh. It’s a website where e-girls post their nudes, and desperate horny fans pay to see them.” 

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “People actually pay for porn?” 

“I know, right? It’s crazy.” He took a closer look at the webpage. “OOOH, #FyodorIsOverParty is finally trending.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day, Fulgrim was in bed, browsing Squawkr on his 30 pound lap-cogitator, when he received a notification that Perturabo was streaming. “Oh shit, he’s playing Dwarf Fortress!” Fulgrim said as he excitedly clicked the link to the stream. 

Perturabo was playing Dwarf Fortress on stream, there was a little box in the corner with a donation bar and footage from his webcam. “Okay. There’s been a lot of controversy about me on Squawkr lately. About my girlfriend. For those of you who have better things to do with your lives, let me contextualize this for you. My partner, Galatea has a Fanster account where she posts her nudes in exchange for money. I am aware of this, and I don’t care. I’m asexual, meaning that I have zero carnal desire for her. I do not wish to know her in the biblical sense, nor engage in any related activities.” 

The chat erupted into a shitstorm of comments about how Perturabo was somehow less of a man for having no sexual desires. Fulgrim tried to drown out all the haters by repeatedly spamming the Pogchamp emote. 

“Holy shit!” Perturabo was pissed. “Why do you all care so much!? Clearly, I am the winner in this situation. You all have to pay to see my girlfriend naked, but I get to do it for free.” 

The chat died down a little, although it was still relentless. 

“Ughh…” Perturabo groaned. He turned off his stream and went down the hallway. He knocked on the door to Galatea’s room. 

“Come in, nya~!” 

The primarch went into Galatea’s room and sat on the edge of her bed. He watched her take off her headset and get up from her gaming chair. 

The catgirl frowned. “Simp controversy got your tongue?” 

“Yeah.” He lied down on his back and sighed. “I think we really should talk about this.” 

Her eyes hit the floor. “I really don’t want to.” 

“Galatea…” He sighed. “Do you remember that episode of Rick and Morty, the one where Rick turns himself into a pickle?” 

Galatea nodded. “Yeah. The one where they all go to family therapy?” 

Perturabo sighed. “Yes. Remember how at the end of the episode, the therapist talks about how self-care, by which I am referring to the maintenance of one’s mental health- is often monotonous and inconvenient, to the point where some would rather die than do it? How she compares it to brushing your teeth, or wiping your ass. But it is still necessary for our wellbeing.” He continued. “She made a good point. And I think in order for our relationship to remain mutually healthy, we must regularly have discussions such as these.” 

Galatea gently smiled. “Yeah. Don’t wanna end up like Beth and Jerry.” 

“Damn, I love Rick and Morty. It’s the deepest and most subjective piece of media that mankind has ever created.” Perturabo sighed. 

Somewhere on Sicarus, Lorgar awoke from his week-long meditation. “I don’t know why, but I think I’m going to kick Perturabo’s ass today.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, Magnus gently nudged Fulgrim’s shoulder. “Magnus. It’s time for card night at Perturabo’s place. We’re playing Magic: The Gathering and Munchkin.” 

“Oooh, Munchkin! I love that game!” Fulgrim set down his book and grabbed his bag of deckboxes. “Let’s go.” 

Once the two arrived at Perturabo’s place, Fulgrim set down his bag. “So, what are we playing first?” 

“I was thinking we could play a few games of Commander.” Perturabo suggested. “Or maybe just one. I have this sick control deck I just brewed up, so a four-player match would probably take around three hours.” 

“I brought my new Grixis steal deck.” Magnus announced. “So save your counterspells for when I cast a spell to gain control of your entire battlefield.” 

Galatea smiled. “OOoh! And I’ll play from this random EDH deck I netdecked off the internet. It’ll be a blast.”

“And I’ll play from my Heliod, Sun-Crowned deck.” Fulgrim said. “Mainly because I blew a shit ton of money commissioning alters for it.” 

And so, they set up their game. Magnus played Marchesa, the black rose. Perturabo played Baral, Chief of Compliance. Fulgrim of course played Heliod, Sun Crowned. And Galatea played… Gaddock Teeg? 

The game went smoothly on the first few turns, with everyone setting up their lands and ramps. It wasn’t until turn 4 that shit started to get real. Magnus and Perturabo soon realized that Gaddock Teeg was going to be a huge problem. Galatea had Destiny Weaver on the battlefield, which prevented creature and enchantment spells from being countered. 

Magnus sent a telepathic message to Perturabo. _ “Got any removal?”  _

_ “The only removal I have is counterspells. What about you?” _ He thought back. 

_ “I used my only viable removal spell to bounce Fulgrim’s WWW enchantment in order to reduce his devotion to white. I have Flood of Tears to bounce everything on the battlefield, but I’m afraid it has a CMC of 6. Which I can’t cast if Teeg is on the battlefield.”  _ Magnus explained telepathically.

“Okay umm…” Fulgrim scratched his chin. “I cast Enlightened Tutor to tutor for Crusade, and then I cast Crusade, which gives all my white creatures +1/+1. Does it resolve?” 

Perturabo frowned. “No Fulgrim. It doesn’t, because Crusade was banned in 2020 for being racist.” 

The serpentine primarch narrowed his eyes. “Perturabo, haven’t you had like 5 genocides perpetrated in your name?” 

“Okay fine. It resolves.” Perturabo sighed. 

Fulgrim put Crusade down on his battlefield. “Okay. Pass turn to Galatea.” 

“Awesome.” Galatea drew a card and then put down a Forest land card. Then she got Gaddock Teeg out from her Command Zone. “I cast Gaddock Teeg, does it resolve?” She smirked. 

There was no answer. 

“Great.” She put it down. “Next, I cast Thalia, Guardian of Thraben, making so noncreature spells cost 1 more generic mana. If that resolves, then I pass turn.” 

As the game went on, Fulgrim realized it would be in his best interest to form a temporary alliance with Galatea. Since his deck was mostly made up of creatures and small noncreature spells, Galatea’s board state had little effect on his. With their combined efforts, Magnus was the first one to be defeated, followed by Perturabo. As the game went on, Fulgrim realized that Galatea was not as stupid as she pretended to be. Hatebears was certainly an archetype that required a complex understanding of the game. And she was clearly a master at it. The question was- why exactly was she putting on this charade? 

Fulgrim began his turn and drew a card, then cast a Plains land card. “I cast Ajani’s Pridemate, that triggers Soul Warden, Ajani’s Welcome, and Impassioned Orator to give me 3 life in 3 instances. He passively gains 3 +1/+1 counters upon entering the battlefield, then I use Heliod’s ability to give me 3 more counters. Additionally, I tap 4 Plains cards to allow Mentor of the Meek to let me draw 2 cards, since this creature was only a 2/2 upon entering the battlefield.” 

Galatea nodded. “Everything on the stack resolves.” 

“Alright.” Fulgrim tapped all his creatures to attack. “Swing board.” 

“I declare no blockers.” Galatea replied. 

Fulgrim was shocked. Why wouldn’t Galatea declare any blockers? If Fulgrim swung board, she would be left with only 1 life point. What was she planning? “Okay. That brings you down to 1 life point. Pass turn.” 

Galatea drew a card and played a Plains land card. Then she tapped three lands to put Glorious Anthem down on the battlefield, it resolved. And then- she cast Planar Cleansing. “I play Planar Cleansing. This destroys all nonland permanents on the battlefield.”

Shit.

The catgirl smirked and put Heroic Intervention on top of the stack. “I cast Heroic Intervention, this makes all my permanents hexproof and indestructible until the end of the turn.” 

Fulgrim sighed heavily. “It… Resolves.” He then put all of his nonland permanents into his graveyard. This was the worst kind of boardwipe- the kind where only he was affected! 

Galatea tapped all her creatures. “Swing board.” 

With no creatures on Fulgrim’s battlefield to block, he had no choice to take the damage, bringing his life total down to the negatives. “Damn…” He put all of his cards back into a pile. “That was surprisingly good.” Fulgrim looked back at the other side of the room where Magnus and Perturabo were sitting. “Hey guys, we’re done! Wanna play another round?” 

Magnus looked up from his book. “No thanks. Perturabo are debating telepathically whether or not the Matrix was an allegory for Plato’s cave allegory.” 

“Okay. Have fun with that.” Fulgrim got out of his seat and looked at Galatea. “Wanna fuck?” 

She shrugged. “Sure.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"AHHHHH.... Fuck." Fulgrim sighed as he finished doing the hanky panky with Galatea. “That was a good lay.” 

“An… Okay lay for me.” Galatea frowned. She attempted to put a hand on his shoulder, but he batted it away. “Fulgrim! I put my fingers in your ass and sang happy birthday to your cock, but you’re not enough of a freak to cuddle with me!?” 

“Sorry.” He shrugged. “I told you I’m not a cuddler.” 

“You can’t even fake it for me?” 

“That would still be considered cuddling.” Fulgrim got a pack of cigarettes from seemingly nowhere, but presumably his asshole. 

“Why are you so afraid of intimacy?” 

“I’m a Slaaneshi prince.” Fulgrim lit his cigarette with his finger using some sort of psyker power. “In order to gain perfection, one must think about themself, and only themself.” He took a long drag. “And plus, I just… Intimacy scares me.” He sank into the bed. 

“It scares you? What do you mean?” 

“Well, what if I get too close to one of my sexual partners and they take it the wrong way and want to date me? What if they’re affectionate, and then spend the night and steal one of my kidneys? I mean- that’s only happened twice, but both incidents happened in the same month- which is a weird coincidence. What if we fall in love and I make some kind of horrible mistake and then kill them and spend three months on a crazy bender in a Slaaneshi partyhouse to try to forget everything and play a game of ookie cookie that lasts three hours? Or worse- What if I love them and they don’t love me back, and I spend months and months wondering if they don’t like me back because there’s something deeply and intrinsically wrong with me- and it drives me insane until finally I-” 

Fulgrim. Galatea put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Calm down.” 

The Slaaneshi prince sighed. “Sorry I just- I think I’m going to go home now.” 

“I’m sorry…” 

“It’s not your fault. I just-” He sighed again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Fulgrim was in his room styling his hair at his vanity, when Magnus knocked on the door. 

“Fulgrim are you decent?” 

“I’m absolutely perfect in every way, shape, and form, brother.” He responded smugly. 

“You know what I mean, asshole!” 

“Yes. I’m just doing my hair, come in.” 

Magnus walked in and closed the door behind him. “So, you know how Tzeentch basically kicked me out?” 

“Yes?” Fulgrim answered. 

“Well the problem is, I have a bunch of library books at his place. I need to bring them back to the Imperial Palace. You know how I am with my books.” 

Fulgrim got out his hair straightener and began to straighten his hair. “And what do you want me to do about it?” 

“I want you to keep watch while I perform a spell that transfers all my books at Tzeentch’s palace, to my library at the Imperial Palace.” 

“Well. I’ve got nothing better to do today, so I might as well.” Fulgrim put down his hair straightener. “Let me just braid my hair real quick.” 

Magnus sighed. “Here, I’ll help.” He put his hands in Fulgrim’s long, white hair and began to braid it. 

“Magnus, I wasn’t aware that you knew how to braid.” 

The warlock blushed. “My boyfriend makes me do it for him.” 

“Hmm…” Fulgrim’s eyes hit the floor. “Magnus, what is it like having a- Partner.” 

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never had one?” 

“Well, no. I’ve had a few flings, but nothing on that level of intimacy.” 

He seemed quite surprised. “Honestly, it feels reassuring. Romantic love is a very complex and unique feeling. Most people consider it to be the most intense emotion a human can experience.” He paused. “You’ve seriously never felt that before?” 

Fulgrim frowned. “No, is that bad?” 

“Not necessarily bad. Just a little concerning, considering you seem to be an explorer of sensation.” 

“You’re right…” Fulgrim scratched his chin. 

“Done.” Magnus put his hands on his hips. 

“Great! Now I just have to do my makeup.” 

“AGHHHHHHHHHHHH”


	25. Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fulgrim likes breakfast for a number of reasons

Rogal Dorn’s grandfather had died. He knew it was inevitable. People died once they hit a certain age, and his dear grandpa was no exception to the rule. But it still hurt. He had never experienced the death of someone so close before. 

Funerals on Inwit were pretty plain. They were a small affair, only close friends and relatives came. Otherwise, people’s schedules would be filled to the brim with obligations to attend funerals- as death was a part of his people’s daily life. But what was unusual, was that funerals were the only time he ever saw people cry. As his grandfather’s body was set down on a raft and pushed into the icy sea, he noticed that many of his relatives bowed their heads down, tears silently flowing down their faces and then freezing off in the cold tundra wind. But Rogal just stood there- watching the raft get smaller and smaller, until eventually it floated past the horizon, out of his field of vision. And as he looked onto the horizon, he remembered how his grandfather loved him dearly. How he taught young Dorn everything he needed to know. All the hunting trips they went on together, building an igloo for the first time, learning to make a campfire out of moss and lichens. It was all thanks to him. He stared off into the distance, taciturn, stoic, and almost solemn. It hurt, but he kept it all inside. 

One-by-one, the funeral goers walked away to go back to their lives. Rogal eventually did the same, going back to his room at the Dorn family manor. It was a small room with just his desk and his bed- a large pile of pelts, which included the cloak he had recently inherited from his grandfather. He shut the door behind him and sat down on the edge of his bed. There was nothing else to distract him. He was alone now with his thoughts. And then it hit him- all at once. He would never get to see his grandfather again. He was gone now. Gone forever, and there was nothing he could do about it. This was the first time he had ever felt such grief. He knew that life would go on, and that gradually he would get used to the new normal. But nothing could prepare him- and it felt like the end of the world, even though deep down he knew everything would be alright in the end. 

He buried his face into his grandfather’s cloak, and began to sob. It was the first time he had cried in decades, but it wouldn’t be his last. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, how is Yvraine?” Rogal sipped his tea. It was late in the evening, and he and Gulliman were drinking tea out in the garden. 

“Good.” Roboute took a sip. “She’s starting to show sooner than I thought, so we’re moving the wedding to two weeks from now.” 

“How come?” 

“I don’t want people to assume I married her out of wedlock.” 

Rogal set his tea down. “Is wedlock not the reason you are marrying her in the first place?” 

“Yes, but- Nobody needs to know that.” He paused. “Not to mention, she won’t be around forever. The Eldar may be a long-lived race, but their lifespans are still finite.” 

“Hmm…” Rogal furrowed his brow. 

“Hmm?” Roboute hmm’d. 

“That reminds me of the fact that tech priests typically only live to be a few hundred years old.” He frowned. “Not much longer than that of a regular human.” 

“How old is Magdalene?” 

“They’re 38.” 

“Ah. Are you two thinking about having kids?” 

“I haven’t discussed it with them.” He frowned. “Although, I’d like to have children in the future.” 

Roboute gently smiled and finished off his tea. “I’m sure you’d make an excellent father.”, he lied. 

Rogal finished his tea as well. “Indeed.” He got up. “Well. This has been a pleasant evening, and you have certainly given me much to think about. I should probably be returning to my quarters now.” 

“See you around.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Rogal walked back into his room, Magdalene was sitting on the floor playing video games. “Magdalene. I am home.” 

Magdalene paused their game and looked over. “Hey Rogal.” 

He sat on the floor next to them. “Magdalene. Would you like to have a baby with me?” 

“What.” Magdalene’s LCD eyes narrowed in confusion.

“I would like to have children with you.” Rogal explained. 

“What.” 

“I would like to impregnate you in order to start a family.” 

“Yes! I am aware of what you are saying. But why are you suddenly asking for this!? We’ve only been together for 8 months.” They sighed. “Ask me again in 5 years.” 

“Will you even have eggs in 5 years?” 

Magdalene sighed. “I don’t know- But if not, then we have other options. I just want to wait. Why are you suddenly so hell-bent on wanting to start a family?” 

“I have suddenly realized your mortality. To love someone like you is like to love a hamster.” 

“What!?” 

“What I am trying to say is that a hamster will only last for a small fraction of your life.” 

“So, what? Am I like a pet to you or something?” Magdalene buried their face in their knees. “I just- You’re acting like a lunatic right now!” They got up and walked to the hallway. 

“Magdalene, I-” 

“ARGHHHH I NEED A MOMENT TO PROCESS THIS!” They went inside the bedroom and slammed the door shut. 

“Well… That did not go as planned.” Rogal sighed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay. Here’s the plan.” Magnus explained as he and Fulgrim stepped outside the door to his room in Tzeentch’s palace. “You guard the door, make sure nobody gets in here while I cast this spell. You have one job. Don’t fuck this up.” 

“Okay.” 

Magnus went inside and shut the door behind him. 

A couple minutes later, a daemon of Tzeentch walked by. She was tall and humanoid, but with the head of a blue chicken. “Hey, what are you doing here, Fulgrim?” 

Fuck. She was hot. Those huge chicken breasts were giving Fulgrim ideas. “Why, I’m here to learn more about the teachings of Tzeentch and-” 

“Cut the crap. I know you’re up to mischief.” She pushed him against the wall. “So tell me- what is it?” 

She reeked of arousal. Fuck it. He was gonna go in for the kill. The Slaaneshi primarch leaned in for a kiss and they both started making out passionately in the hallway. 

The chicken daemon’s cheeks turned hot. “Wanna- take this to my bedroom?” 

“You don’t want to do it in the hallway?” 

“Last time I did that, I was caught in the act.” 

“Very well then. Lead the way.” 

She led the way and Fulgrim followed. Neither one of them could keep their hands off of each other. 

Fulgrim smirked. “Did you know I was going to be here?” 

“Yeah. I’m psychic. Not to mention, I’ve seen you when you’ve visited the palace and I’ve been dying to fuck you.” 

“Wow! That’s borderline parasocial. But I’m a whore, so who cares.” He followed her to her bedroom and they started passionately making out on her bed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After about 15 minutes, Rogal knocked on the bedroom door. “Magdalene, can we talk?” He could hear quiet sobbing from inside. 

“Leave me alone! I’m still mad at you!” 

He frowned. “Okay then.” Not knowing what else to do, he went over to a room on the other side of the castle. It was filled with wires, cogitators, and strange metal boxes. There were several Martian mechanics operating the strange devices. He went up to one of them. “I need to use the pain glove.” 

“Right this way.” The mechanic said as he opened the door to the metal box. Inside the darkness of the box, was a large glass tube filled with nodes. Rogal stripped down to his pain glove and the mechanic attached the nodes to the ports on his glove. “All set. Let me just inject the opiate blockers real quick.” The Martian said before jabbing the primarch’s arm with a needle and injecting a strange substance. He took the needle out and then shut the door behind him. 

He mediated in the chamber for who knows how long; until he finally realized something. Magdalene was right. It was too soon for all this. How could he even consider having biological children, when he couldn’t even parent his gene-sons correctly? He knew what needed to be done. 

_ “Sigismund…” _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fulgrim woke up the next morning with barely any recollection of what had happened that night. And then it hit him that the daemon’s arms were wrapped around him. “AGH- What the fuck!?” He jerked away from her grip. 

The daemon yawned. “Huh? Is something wrong?” 

“Yeah! What the hell happened last night?” 

“Right before we were about to have sex, I got overly excited and dug my claws too hard into your back. Then you had a massive panic attack and started crying. Then I tried to calm you down. Then you broke into my minifridge and ate the entire cake I made for my best friend’s birthday party this Saturday. Then you started bawling your eyes out on the kitchen floor and filmed a video of yourself crying on social media while sobbing out something incomprehensible. Then you vomited on my potted palm tree from crying so much. Then I gave you a glass of water. Then you finally calmed down and you explained to me how you have trauma that you didn’t feel comfortable with disclosing at the moment, but you were still grateful that I was willing to discuss it anyways. Then we lied down in bed and cuddled while we watched the first half of a pirated taping of Heathers: The Musical. Then you fell asleep in my arms.” 

Fulgrim scratched his chin. “Yeah that does sound like me. Minus the cuddling part. You see, I’m not like- the kind of guy who is super affectionate so... “ 

“It’s okay.” She gently patted him on the shoulder and he flinched a little. 

Fulgrim slithered out of bed. “Anyways. Thanks for the cake. I should head home now, it’s weird to stay overnight after hooking up, let alone after the person you just banged wakes up. 

“Well, we didn’t actually have sex.” 

Fulgrim looked back at her as he was putting his shirt back on. “That is true.” 

The bird daemon got out of bed. “Would you like me to make you breakfast?” 

He perked up. “Actually, I’m starving right now so that would be great. Probably because of all the vomiting I did last night.” 

“Great.” She got up and went to the kitchen. “Does avocado toast sound good?” 

Fulgrim slithered to the bar counter that overlooked the kitchen and sat on top of it. “That would be great.” 

“Perfect.” She put some slices of bread in the toaster and then started to slice a large avocado. 

“Now I don’t normally ask people this, but what’s your name?” 

“Seshat.” The chicken daemon replied as she got a skillet out of the cabinet and placed it on the stove. “Now this might seem weird to you but-” She placed one foot onto the cabinet and put her hand underneath. Then with a quiet popping noise, she laid an ostrich-sized egg on her hand. 

“Oh, that is so fucking sexy.” Fulgrim purred. 

“Yeah?” She smirked as she cracked the egg on the skillet and threw the shell away. 

“Yeah.” Fulgrim got down from the counter and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“I can- probably lay another one tomorrow. That is if you’d like to stick around.” 

He grinned. “Maaaaaaybeeeeeeee.” 

And thus began a long session of pre-breakfast sex. 

“Holy shit…” The daemon panted. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fulgrim stood up and smirked. “Pretty good, right?” He smirked. 

“Now do me again.” Seshat said with a sense of great urgency. 

“Really? I’m honestly surprised you’re still able to stand after getting fucked that hard.” 

She hopped down from the counter and bent over. “Just do me already!” 

“Yeah but- What about the eggs?” He looked over at the eggs cooking on the stove, which were now starting to burn. 

“I don’t give a shit about the eggs, I just wanna do it like they do on the nature channel!” 

"I mean- if you insist." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Magdalene?” Rogal knocked on their door. “I apologize for my actions from earlier. You were right.” 

There was silence. And then a few moments later, he heard footsteps. Followed by the sound of the door opening. “I should probably apologize too. I overreacted.” 

“We both did.” Rogal got a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates from out of his pocket. “I got you something.” 

“Wow! The two most generic gifts in the galaxy! Thank you, my primarch.” 

“Is that sarcasm? Honestly, I find myself unable to distinguish sarcasm from regular speech.” 

“Primarily.” Magdalene sat down on the end of the mattress and started eating the chocolate. “However, about 23.8 percent of my tone was genuine. My menstrual cycle started three days earlier than anticipated.” 

“I am not surprised.” The primarch sighed as he flopped down on the bed. 

Magdalene hovered over him for a moment. “Your facial expression indicates a combination of grief, regret, and melancholy.” 

“I would rather not talk about it at the moment.” 

“Alright.” Magdalene lay down next to Rogal and nuzzled up to him. 

Rogal gently put his hand on their cheek and gave them a brief kunik before looking back up at the ceiling. He sighed and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, he snuck out of the bedroom.    
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


“Oh fuck yeah- KISS ME FULGRIM!” The two were making out on the bed for like the third time today.

“I uh-” Fulgrim looked away. “I don’t know, I-” 

“What?” Seshat asked, confused. 

“The fucking’s fine. The kissing and cuddling and stuff I just- It doesn't feel right.” 

“What?” 

Fulgrim sighed. “I’m sorry, I need to umm-” The daemon prince pulled out and put on a bathrobe that was hanging on a hook next to the bed. Then he opened the sliding glass door to the balcony and went out. He sighed as he looked over the horizon and took out a pack of cigarettes. He knew he fucked up big time. And the worst thing was, he actually felt somewhat attached to her. No, he couldn’t let himself get attached. That was his big rule. Being adored by many was one thing. But being adored on a personal and intimate level was something he feared. Not to mention, against Slaanesh’s teachings. With his head clouded with thoughts, he took a long drag of his cigarette in an attempt to ground himself, 

The door behind him slid open and he turned his head. Seshat walked onto the balcony, tears flowing down her beady little chicken eyes. 

His heart sank. “Seshat…” 

“I’m sorry Fulgrim…” She sniffled. “I-I’m sorry for overstepping your boundaries.” 

“Sweetie…” Fulgrim cupped a hand around her cheek and wiped her tears. 

“I fucked up. I-I’m so sorry.” 

“No. I fucked up.” He sighed, his bright white pupils hitting the concrete floor of the balcony. “It’s just hard for me to open up to others. I’ve been through a lot in the past 10,000 years. In all honesty, I’m starved as all hell for affection. I just- I’m terrified of the implications.” 

“Well. How about we start with a hug?” 

“I can handle that.” 

Seshat gently wrapped her arms around Fulgrim. It felt good. A wave of emotion hit him. So many years deprived of affection, so many years wasted repressing everything. He wanted to be loved so badly. The tears began to flow and he quietly sobbed into her shoulder. 

“There, there.” She gently rubbed Fulgrim’s back with her free hand. “How about we go back inside. Do you wanna be held?” 

“Yes please”, he whimpered. 

The two went back inside and hopped into bed, Seshat gently spooning Fulgrim. 

Fulgrim closed his eyes and relaxed. “This.... Feels nice.” 

“Yeah.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two young Imperial Fist aspirants were in a room in the palace, arguing about Minecraft. 

“I keep telling you, our village needs a place where the zombie villagers can be cured!” 

“That’s a security hazard, Tito! If we just build a giant wall, then what are the odds of someone turning into a zombie anyways?” 

“Neophytes. I need your attention, briefly.” Rogal said as he walked into the room. 

“Yes, my primarch?” The neophytes seemed excited to see him. 

“Do either of you know where Sigismund is?” Rogal asked.   
  


The two neophytes just stared at him blankly. “Uhh… Father. Sigismund died… Quite a while ago.” 

The primarch’s taciturn expression faltered for just a brief second as the news hit him. “Ah. I see. Carry on.” He walked out of the room. Why was this all shocking to him? He should’ve known. Astartes rarely live to be that old. His thoughts of reconciliation were just a pipe dream. Why did he get his hopes up? He felt sick for some odd reason. Perhaps it was the feeling of his sins crawling up his spine. He needed to be alone with his thoughts. But he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. 

Eventually, he had made it to his ship. It was empty, thank Throne. And then, the primarch sat down on his bed, finally alone with his thoughts. He felt a feeling that he had not felt in millenia- a tear running down his cheek. 


	26. The Trials of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fulgrim fights his inner daemons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mention of sexual assault in this chapter

For as long as he could remember, Fulgrim felt as if there was a bottomless pit inside him that needed to be filled. At first, it was mundane. Hunger. He never had enough to eat as a child. Being a primarch, he naturally grew much faster than the other kids. But at the same time, food was scarce on Chemos. He was only allotted so much food. So in order to survive, he worked double shifts to get twice as many rations. It still wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Sometimes out of desperation, the lanky and hollow-cheeked child would try eating dirt. It never worked. All he ever thought about was food and work. 

Eventually, he hit puberty. And with puberty, came independent thought. He started coming up with crazy ideas that revolutionized the mines, then the farms, then everything else. He remembered his first satisfying meal fondly. Age 11. He had finally came up with a system that more than quadrupled mushroom growth on the fungus farms. And as a reward, everyone in the household celebrated. He was presented with a full plate of fried mushrooms. He eagerly wolfed it down. Only to realize his stomach couldn’t handle eating that much. The poor kid puked it all up ten minutes later. 

A few years later, Fulgrim finally had freetime, and all the food he needed. Yet there still a hole inside him that needed to be filled with something- sex. And now there was another hole inside him that needed to be filled- his asshole. He had sex, so much meaningless sex. It worked for a while, but then he started to feel empty again. Why did he feel so empty? 

Eventually, he found the answer to that. Love. He needed love. For a while, he had the love of Ferrus. Sweet, brotherly love. Finally, he felt complete. 

Only for that to fall apart as well. And so, the hole inside him opened back up. No amount of feasting, thinking, or fucking could fill it. Only close it for a few brief moments. But those brief moments were a high he desperately chased- because it was the closest he ever felt to being whole. 

Fulgrim was a broken man, and he was finally starting to become aware. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“LORGAR, I NEED YOUR HELP!” Fulgrim shouted as he kicked open the doors to some church on a desolate planet. 

Lorgar awoke from his meditation and looked over. “Yes, brother?” 

“Okay so-” Fulgrim paused and sniffed the air. “Did you hotbox this entire church?” 

“Yeah. I’m high as shit right now.” Lorgar replied. 

“As usual.” Fulgrim got back on topic. “Okay anyways, I have a girlfriend now. And I really like her. But like- what is love, Lorgar? I’ve lived so long without it that I’ve forgotten what it feels like. What if I’m in love right now and don’t even realize it!?” 

“Hmm… Love is very complicated, Fulgrim.” He thought for a moment, two moments actually, because he was high as shit. “Actually, let me get out a forbidden heretic religious text from millenia ago.” A book of ancient canticles manifested before him. “Ahem.” He cleared his throat. _ “ _ **_THE BRIDE CONFESSES HER LOVE: SHE:_ ** _ Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine; your anointing oils are fragrant; your name is oil poured out; therefore virgins love you. Draw me after you; let us run. The king has brought me into his chambers.”  _

“Oh boy. Here we go.” Fulgrim groaned. 

Lorgar raised an eyebrow. “What was that now?” 

  
“Nothing! Nothing! Keep on going please, this is fascinating.”

Lorgar continued.  _ “ _ **_SOLOMON AND HIS BRIDE DELIGHT IN EACHOTHER: SHE:_ ** _ We will exult and rejoice in you; we will extol your love more than wine;rightly do they love you.” _

_ 30 agonizing minutes later... _

“SHE: Come away, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or like a young stag on the spice-laden mountains.” Lorgar shut the book and poofed it away magically. “Did that help?” 

“That’s either the horniest ancient poem I’ve ever read, or a very weird men’s deodorant ad.” Fulgrim sighed, furrowing his brow. “Do you have anything more useful?” 

“Actually, I think I have something you’ll find a lot more useful. Have you ever heard of Oscar Wilde?”

“Yeah. I found out about him pretty recently when Perturabo called me “Dorian Gay” and had to explain the reference to me. I’ve read a few of his works.” 

“Yes well… I think you may find this interesting.” Lorgar summoned another ancient tome. “This is “De Profundis”, a long letter that Wilde wrote during his time in prison. Let me read you an excerpt.” He opened up the book and read a page in the middle. 

_ “Most people live for love and admiration. But it is by love and admiration that we should live. If any love is shown us we should recognise that we are quite unworthy of it. Nobody is worthy to be loved. The fact that God loves man shows us that in the divine order of ideal things it is written that eternal love is to be given to what is eternally unworthy. Or if that phrase seems to be a bitter one to bear, let us say that every one is worthy of love, except him who thinks that he is. Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling, and ‘lord, I am not worthy” should be on the lips and in the hearts of those who receive it.” _

Fulgrim chuckled. “Hehe. That’s what she said.” 

Lorgar sighed. “Did you find anything meaningful in what I’ve read so far?”

“Maybe? I think what you’re trying to say is that everyone, no matter who, is tainted with sin. So it’s a miracle that there are people out there who are still willing to love us. And we shouldn’t take that for granted.” 

“I think that’s a reasonable take.” Lorgar’s tattooed brow ridge unfurrowed slightly. “Has this been helpful?”    
  
The daemon serpent slowly nodded. “Yeah. I think it has.” He looked over to Lorgar. “Just out of curiosity, do you have a lover, Lorgar?” 

“Oh, I’ve had many.” He smiled. “But my current one is Nelphinee. A minor daemon deity who represents reverence.” 

“Not surprised.” 

“Here. Let me read you a poem I wrote about her last week.” Lorgar cleared his throat and pulled out a piece of paper. 

_ *note, the following poem rhymes in High Terran, but since this is translated into English, it does not rhyme _

  
  


_ “I worship at your altar, sweet nelphinee _

_ For you are more worthy than me _

_ Therefore, you are the goddess of my heart and soul _

_ I bow down and pray, I am not worthy _

_ For I am not worthy _

_ Of your tremendous mind full of Tzeentch’s brevity and wit _

_ Nor your heart that beats with Khorne’s justice _

_ Your tender and ripe bosom that makes Slaanesh speak to me _

_ For your bare feet that tread across the filthy ground,  _

_ tracking Nurgle’s rot through my sanctum of worship _

_ As I see you, I kneel before you _

_ Sweet guest to my heart _

_ Tenderly, I clean your feet _

_ With my mouth _

_ Licking your plump, succulent toes _

_ Ever so gently _

_ My heart filled with reverence _

_ As you are my goddess. “ _

Fulgrim just stood there, dumbfounded for a few moments. “Lorgar, be honest with me here. Do you have a foot fetish? Because I got psychic damage from hearing that last stanza.” 

“No. You see, Fulgrim- washing someone’s feet is a gesture of reverence.” Lorgar explained.

“Yes. Like, with a washbasin. You used your mouth.” 

“As a sign of reverence to Nurgle.” 

“Wouldn’t it be an insult to Nurgle to take a bath?” Fulgrim raised an eyebrow. 

“No, Fulgrim. It would be an insult to Nurgle not to lick such plump and succulent little piggies.” 

Fulgrim winced. “I- Okay. I’m not arguing about this any further.” 

“Very well then.” Lorgar said an acknowledgment. “While you’re still here, feel free to check out the books on the shelves. They contain a wealth of knowledge that you may find useful.”    
  
“I will, thank you, Lorgar.” Fulgrim said before slithering away. 

“Don’t use the books as a fleshlight like last time though! I mean it!”

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Fulgrim went back to Magnus’s room.

“Magnus, what’s a ‘bibble’?” Fulgrim asked as he peeked over his brother’s shoulders. 

Magnus looked up from his book. “What? A little context please?”

Fulgrim handed a book he borrowed from Lorgar to Magnus, and the red primarch skimmed through the passage. “Oh. They’re referring to ‘The Bible’. It’s an ancient holy book of a religion called ‘Christianity”. 

Fulgrim nodded. “Ohhh. I see.” 

“Yeah. It’s a pretty graphic book. Littered with depictions of death, depravity, and needless cruelty.” Magnus handed Fulgrim’s book back to him. 

Fulgrim grabbed Magnus by the collar of his tunic. “MAGNUS, YOU NEED TO SHOW THIS TO ME LIKE RIGHT NOW! THAT SOUNDS AMAZING!” 

“Okay, okay. Clench your asshole before you shit yourself.” Magnus grumbled as he shut his book and got up. He led Fulgrim to a bookshelf at the back of his library and pushed it to the side, exposing the entrance to a secret passage. He then climbed down the ladder and gestured for Fulgrim to follow. 

Once Fulgrim made it to the secret room, he looked around in awe. “Wow! I had no idea you had a secret library!” 

“Yeah. I originally made it to hide shit from Malcador.” He turned on the light switch, which lit up the room. 

“Oh! An old box of photos!” Fulgrim pulled out an old box filled with pictures from the top of one of the shelves and took out a photo.

“Wow, an old picture of Cygnus and the Space Pirates chapter master. You seriously have pictures of the missing Primarchs? How about uh- the other one?” 

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean [REDACTED]?” 

“Yeah. That guy.” 

The warlock pulled out a picture of the other missing primarch and presented it to Fulgrim.

“That guy was such a dick.” Fulgrim scoffed. 

“Anyways, the old religious texts are on the shelf to your left. Go nuts.  _ Metaphorically  _ nuts.” Magnus furrowed his brow. “Do not fuck my books.”    
  
“You got it, bro!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It feels nice to finally have a vacation.” Cato sighed as he carried the luggage over to the Space Wolves monastery. 

  
  


“I mean, we had one like 8 months ago.” Lupa replied. 

“We almost got killed by Orks, I wouldn’t quite count that as a vacation.”

Lupa smirked. “If you say so.” She knocked on the large wooden doors of the monastery. 

“SOMEONE’S AT THE DOOR, SOMEONE’S AT THE DOOR, SOMEONE’S AT THE DOOR!” The Astartes and serfs shouted, as the dogs inside erupted into a chorus of barks and howls. After a few seconds, the door was finally opened- by no one other than Leman Russ himself. 

“There’s my favorite granddaughter!” He bear-hugged Lupa. 

She smiled and hugged back. “Hi grandpa.” 

“Glad to see you, my primarch.” Cato said as he carried the stack of luggage. 

The two went up to Lupa’s private quarters in the monastery and Cato set the luggage down on the bed. “What now?” 

“Hmm…” Lupa mused. “Why don’t we go down to the living room to see what my siblings are up to?” 

“Sure.” 

The two went down to the living room near the entrance of the monastery, where they saw 8 of Lupa’s siblings, plus some other children watching a cartoon on the TV. 

“Lupa!” A young girl shouted. Soon she and Cato were surrounded by a swarm of small children. 

Lupa smiled. “Hey guys. How are you?” 

“Good!” One of them said

“Olaf is a Blood Claw now!” One of them said, playfully tugging at Lupa’s pantleg.

The guardswoman nodded. “Yeah, I heard!” 

“Guys! Guardsman Jack is back on!” Another kid shouted. 

The youngsters eagerly watched what was happening on the TV. 

Lupa gave Cato’s hand a gentle squeeze and the two sat down on the couch. “Did you ever watch Guardsman Jack as a kid?” 

“Yeah. I was obsessed with that show growing up.” Cato lay down on his side and gently spooned Lupa, kissing her on the forehead. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We now return to GUUUUUARDSMAN JAAAAACCCCKKKKKKKK '' The announcer on the TV said. 

“Oh no, guys! What are we going to do about the evil crocodile people invading Macragge!?” The generic brown-haired white guy main character with barely any personality cried out. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll burn them all to the ground with holy fire!” The Soroita shouted. 

Then everyone started shooting and bombing the shit out of the city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hmm, this is a lot more violent than I remember”, Cato mused. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do we do about this?” The young skitarii asked as he held up a baby xeno. 

“Blast the shit out of it!” The Ultramarine ordered.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah. You’re right.” Lupa furrowed her brow. “It’s amazing what they can get away with on a children’s cartoon.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Sister of Battle blasted the baby with her bolter and it made an epic explosion. And also, confetti popped out of it for some reason. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey umm… I’m gonna use the restroom.” Lupa got up. “Like, not to piss. To shit. I’m very constipated so I’m probably going to be in there for like an hour. Okay, bye.” She walked away.

“Well… Alright.” Cato shrugged and continued watching the TV as Lupa walked away. As he watched, he started having childhood nostalgia. He remembered getting up early in the mornings to watch the newest episode of Guardsman Jack. Then afterwards, he’d go outside to train with his instructor for several hours. It was as if his entire childhood was dedicated to becoming a soldier. Was this normal? Now that he thought about it, a lot of peasant children he had spoken to did other things. As if war was an afterthought. 

“Pew pew pew!” One one of Lupa’s younger brothers was playfully chasing his little brother around with a stick. “Die heretic!” 

Cato snapped out of his deep thinking trance and watched the children. 

“Oh no, I’m dead!” The little brother flopped down to the ground. “Boom!” 

One of the kid’s older sisters came running towards them. “I’m a warp monster and I’m going to eat your brains!” She tackled the older brother. 

“AAK!” He happily squealed. “Well uhh- I have special armor that makes me immune to monsters.” 

“Bam bam!” The young girl playfully punched his older brother in the chest. “I just punched a hole through your armor so now the monsters can hurt you.” 

“Oh no!” 

“Also I ripped your heart out!” The girl ran off giggling. 

“ACCCHHH BLECH!” The boy pretended to die. 

Cato frowned. He remembered doing the same things as a child. Of course, he didn’t know about “warp monsters”. But he figured that children raised around Space Marines had a better understanding of what went on in the outside world. Those kids didn’t understand. They had never seen the horrible things that went on in The Warp. The same things that had mentally scarred Cato for life. But perhaps that was good. Perhaps it was good that they were insensitive, because it meant they didn’t suffer like he did.    
_ “Innocence is a beautiful, yet terrifying thing.” _ He thought to himself before getting up. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I thought I’d find you here.” Cato sat down next to Lupa, who was hunched over on a table in the dining hall with half a bottle of aquavit. “Everything alright?” 

She sighed. “I just needed a drink.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“I just-” She paused. “You ever just see something so innocent and mundane, and it just- makes you feel bad? And then it makes you feel like a total wuss for feeling that way?” 

“Oddly specific, but yeah.” Cato put a gentle hand on Lupa’s shoulder. 

“Like- As a kid you’re like- “oh bam bam pew pew war is so cool, I’m gonna be soldiers just like my parents! It’s gonna be awesome!” And then you actually fight in a war, and it’s great. Ya know? But it’s not everything you imagined? It’s all fine and dandy when you’re the one ripping out someone’s spine. But then you see someone you had a conversation with 15 minutes ago, sprawled out on the ground with their limbs blown off. It’s suddenly not so fun anymore. And it’s weird that nobody ever talks about it!” 

Cato nodded. “Yeah. I get what you mean.” 

Lupa took a big swig of aquavit and exhaled. “You hear all these stories in the dining hall about heroic deeds, and wars that were won. But never the day after, when you’re all alone with your thoughts and it all hits you. All the horrible things you saw.” 

“You don’t have to be alone.” Cato gave Lupa’s hand a tight squeeze. 

Lupa chuckled and sighed. “Neither do you. Thank you for dealing with me, Cato.” 

He gently smiled. “I’m glad we have each other, Lupa. Through the good, and the bad.” 

“Yeah.” She paused. “Speaking of which, have you told my father the big news yet?” 

Cato shook his head. “Not yet.” 

“Well you need to ask for his permission.” 

“Am I gonna need to pay 12 sheep for you?” He joked. “Seems like an odd custom.” 

She jokingly elbowed him. “He’ll say yes, obviously. But you know. We have our traditions for a reason.”

“Seems like a weird tradition. But yeah. Where is your dad anyways?” 

“He should be back from his daily rounds in about 15 standard minutes.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After several hours of reading, Fulgrim finally emerged from Magnus’s secret library. “MAGNUS, I KNOW WHAT I MUST DO!” 

Magnus raised an eyebrow and looked up from his book. “And what is that?”   
  


“I’m gonna start a cult!” Fulgrim announced. 

Magnus looked back down at his book. “Okay. Have fun with that.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  
“I can see why Tzeentch and Nurgle love this book series so much. A boy wizard prodigy who wastes his power and intellect on maintaining the status quo. Delightfully sad and ironic.” Seshat turned the page of her book and continued to read, chilling in her bed. 

“Seshat, guess what!?” Fulgrim kicked open the door to Seshat’s room. 

“Yesss?” Seshat looked up from her book. 

“I’m starting a cult!” 

The Tzeentchian daemon put down her book. “Fuck yeah! That’s way better than the boring old shit I’ve been reading. What’s it about?” 

Fulgrim pointed to himself with his four thumbs. “You’re looking at the newest god of porn!” 

“But isn’t that Slaanesh’s job?” Seshat frowned. 

“Fuck that guy! Everyone knows I’m way sexier than him.” 

“That is true.” 

Fulgrim nodded in agreement. “Are you in?” 

“Ride or die, baby.”

“Woohoo!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“WOOF WOOF WOOF AWOOOOOOOOOOOOO”    
  
“SOMEONE’S AT THE DOOR! THERE’S SOMEONE AT THE DOOR!” 

Lupa rolled off her bed. “Oof, I think that’s him.” 

“Alright.” Cato put the last of his formal armor on. “I’m ready to meet your father.” 

The Fenrisian woman eagerly took his hand. “Great! Let’s meet him!” As the two walked down the halls, she looked up at him. “Cato… I’m excited to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“Me too Lupa. I wouldn’t trade you for the world.“ He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. 

They finally made it downstairs, where Lupa’s father was greeting his younger children. 

Wulfric Vallhart finally looked up. “Lupa! Good to see ya!” He hugged Lupa and then let go. “And this must be the famous “Cato Sicarius” I’ve heard so much about!” He smirked. 

“That would be me, sir.” 

“Hmm…” He sniffed the Ultramarine. “Something’s on your mind. If so, then spit it out, life’s too short for hesitation.” 

“Wulfric.” Cato stared the Space Wolf down. “I’m going to marry your daughter.” 

Wulfric heartily laughed. “Ya didn’t even ask!” He smirked and put a firm hand on Cato’s shoulder. “I like your spunk! Haha! See ya at midnight then.” He then walked away. 

Cato looked back down at Lupa, dumbfounded. “What was that?” 

Lupa smiled. “Seems like it went well.” 

“Did it?” 

“Yeah. You know our traditions, right Cato?” 

“I- I think?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“You know. How the father of the bride kidnaps the groom while he’s asleep and makes him perform a ritual to prove he’s worthy of marrying his daughter?” 

“What.” 

Lupa frowned. “You didn’t know this?” 

“NO???” 

“Well that’s what he meant by “see you at midnight.”” 

“Oh boy… “   
  


“Oh boy indeed!” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fulgrim and Seshat were reading a book behind a stage curtain, an enormous crowd of humans and daemons alike eagerly stood in front of the stage. 

“Okay. It says here to say a bunch of dumb bullshit and say things like “halleluejah” and “Can I get an amen?”” Seshat turned the page. 

Fulgrim raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Damn, people really used to fall for shit like this?” 

“Oh yeah. Totally. Tzeentch used to tell me stories about this shit all the time. It still happens in some parts of the galaxy, actually.”    
  
“Interesting.” Fulgrim stood up. “Okay. Showtime.” He slithered onto the stage. “GOOD AFTERNOON, SINNERS!” 

“WOOOOOOO!” The crowd cheered. 

“IM HERE TO TELL YOU THE WORD OF ME, FULGRIM. YOUR NEW GOD. CAN I GET A HALLELUJAH!?” 

“HALLELUJAH!!!!” 

“MMMMMMM MY MASSIVE DONG IS SENSING SOMEONE IN THE CROWD....” He pointed in a random direction at nobody in particular. “YOU, WITH THE ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION! WHAT’S YOUR NAME?” 

“Steve!” A random human in the crowd shouted. 

“COME ON UP HERE STEVE!” 

The human walked up onstage. 

Fulgrim put his hand on the man’s head. “FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, YOU ARE CURED OF YOUR ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION! CAN I GET A HALLELUJAH?” 

“I HAVE A MASSIVE ERECTION ALL OF A SUDDEN, HALLELUJAH!” Steve ran back into the crowd, pitching a massive tent in his sweatpants. 

Fulgrim continued spewing bullshit and curing people of bizarre sex-related ailments for about three hours, until he finally got bored. “Okay! Tune in next time for more sexual healing, I’m gonna jerk off now.” 

“AMEN!” 

Fulgrim closed the curtains and went backstage. “Seshat, how’s my social media presence?” 

“You’ve gone viral.” Seshat said while looking at her phone. “#Fulgrimthesexgod is number 1 on trending on Squawkr right now.”    
  


“Excellent.” Fulgrim grinned. 

“Feel any different?” She asked, looking up. 

“Now that you mention it, I do feel a lot more powerful right now.” He chuckled. “Imagine if I had the power of Slaanesh in this form, I could do such more since I have an actual body.” 

Fulgrim’s phone started ringing. 

“Oooh, maybe it’s a new promotion?” Seshat seemed excited. 

“That’s weird, I put it on mute.” Fulgrim frowned and then looked down at his phone. Then his face quickly turned from curiosity, to dread. “It’s Slaanesh.” 

“Oh dear.” 

“Oh dear indeed!” 

“When was the last time you even saw your boss, Fulgrim?” 

“He makes me come over a lot, so uhh-” He thought for a moment. “Three days ago.” His face turned ghost-white. 

“We were having sex all day though. When did you have time to see him?” She frowned. 

“While you were asleep.” His breathing started to pick up.

“You did seem awfully tired the morning after. I assumed it was from us having so much sex though. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugged with his four arms. “I dunno- just seems kinda awkward.” 

“Oh yeah. I get that. My boss calls me at midnight to do weird stuff too. Like, one time he made me listen to him rant about how he never gets any credit for Catcher in the Rye anymore, and that daemon prince JD Salinger hogs all the credit. What does your boss make you do, Fulgrim?” 

“You know. Sort papers and stuff. Speaking of which, I’m starving. Let’s go to your place and get some food.” Fulgrim said, trying to mask his fear. 

“Sure, babe. I have some cake in the fridge.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cato awoke in the snow. It was dark out, and he was freezing cold. Then he noticed that he was wearing nothing but white robes. 

“Get up.” A gruff voice commanded. It was Wulfric.

“Huh?” The Ultramarine stood up and looked around, confused. “Where am I?” 

“The Space Wolves mausoleum.” 

“Mausoleum? What for?” Cato was starting to panic. 

“Fenrisian tradition states that in order for me to allow you to marry my daughter, you must retrieve an axe from the graves of our ancestors, and use said axe to best me in combat.”

Cato smirked. “Easy as pie. But out of curiosity, why do I need to prove myself for all this?” 

“Because vikings don’t want their daughters to marry a good-for-nothing whelp who can’t defend themself, let alone their wife!” 

“Fair.” 

“Now go in, and show me that you’re willing to do anything for her!” 

“Yes sir.” Cato walked in, wondering what that was about. Wulfric was only about 50 years old, fairly young by Space Wolf standards. So why was he acting like this was going to be some sort of challenge? 

As the Ultramarine stepped inside, his nostrils were greeted with the pungent odor of decay. Here lay the bodies of hundreds of Space Wolves, who died valiantly in combat. Strange, mold-covered runes lined the limestone walls, spelling out archaic and foreign incantations. There was a strange energy to the room, but he couldn’t quite decipher what it was. 

Suddenly, the runes began to glow an icy blue. And the bodies that lined the halls started to rattle with energy. They rose from their resting places, axes in hand. 

“Liches!? On Fenris!?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wake up, ya milksop!” Leman Russ held onto Lupa by the scruff of her fur cloak, jostling her awake. 

“Ack! Where am I!?” Lupa woke up and looked around. “Grandpa?” 

Leman smirked. “Did ya think that you could skip your trials too?” 

She squirmed around until Leman eventually let her go. “But Cato’s parents are dead! I thought I’d be immune since I didn’t have a mother-in-law.” 

“Not on my watch! I’m not letting ya miss out on an age-old tradition just because Cato’s folks are dead. You’re still going through the Trial of Womanhood.” 

She nodded. “Fair. Refresh me on how I do this again?” 

“You must venture far out into the woods with only the clothes on your back and a ceremonial knife made of antler.” He handed her a sizable hunting knife carved from an elk’s antler. “Next, you must kill a Fenrisian Giant Elk stag, and then cook it over a fire.” 

Lupa nodded. “Got it.” She then ran off into the woods, knife in hand. “WOOHOO!” 

Leman smiled proudly  _ “Throne bless her soul…”  _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cato found himself surrounded by armored Space Wolf liches. He had been woefully unprepared for this. Not that he was allowed to prepare himself in the first place though. Still, he had fought his way out of much tougher situations. He had faith in himself. In the blink of an eye, he jumped up and kicked a lich out of the way before it could react. As soon as he turned around, however- three more liches stood dangerously close, swinging their axes at him. One of them grazed his shoulder, causing him to bleed for a brief second. Ignoring his pain, he charged straight towards one of the armed liches and grabbed his axe by the handle using both hands. The two other liches swung straight at him on either side, but in a moment of quick thinking, he yanked on the handle of the axe, causing the stubborn lich to lurch forward, taking the blows of the two axes and getting his arms cut off in the process. With the axe finally free from the lich’s grip, Cato swung it around, decapitating the two others. Having retrieved the axe, he made a beeline towards the exit, only for 20 more liches to spring to life and block his way. 

_ “Shit.” _ He muttered under his breath, quickly weighing his options. On one hand, he was outnumbered, on the other, that never really stopped him before. He could either fight them all off, or find a way to get past them. Since he needed to save his strength for the upcoming battle against Lupa’s father, he decided on the latter option. 

“Come and get me, liches!” He ran off towards the entrance, the reanimated corpses chasing after him. Then suddenly, he switched directions. Amidst the confusion, he seized the opportunity to pole vault his way over the crowd with his axe. With a boing, he jumped over the liches. But in doing so, he was so dummy thicc that the handle of the axe snapped in half. And so, he exited the mausoleum, holding an axe with a two foot long handle. 

Wulfric stood outside, a few yards away. He was obscured by the dark, clouded night sky, and the snow that blew through the air. The howling of the wind and the wolves outside reverberated throughout the barren taiga. 

“I see you made it out alive. And with half an axe too.” Wulfric smirked, his beard now resembling the hoary-headed frost that covered the grass on a cold winter’s morning. “I’m not holding back, Cato. And I’ll take offense if you hold back too.” 

“I’m in love with your daughter, Wulfric. I’ll kill you if that’s what it takes.” 

“Heh. That’s the spirit!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lupa trekked through the woods in search of an enormous stag fit for both a feast and a fight. Normally, it was easy to navigate through the woods at night, since she was capable of seeing in the dark. But now it was snowing heavily. And not even the best night vision did much in the snow. Even her olfactory senses were dampened by the weather. She’d have to navigate by sound alone. Carefully, she listened for the call of a stag as she walked. 

“SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” 

A shrill cry pierced the crisp taiga air. It was shrill like the scream of a little girl, yet loud and mighty like a terrifying roar. It was a sublime sound that she had heard many times before- an elk’s bugle. 

Carefully, she walked to the source of sound, softly treading on the soft podzol of the ground below. The cries grew louder and louder. Until out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of light- the elk’s glowing eyes. The two stared at one another for a brief moment, waiting to see who would make the first move. Then the stag took initiative, seizing the opportunity to charge towards Lupa with his mighty rack. As if he were fencing, he slashed at her swiftly. But Lupa quickly jumped behind a tree at the last second, causing it to be sliced apart at the base. With a loud thud, the tree collapsed to the ground, sending songbirds flying away in terror. Scattering away in the sky, only to be snatched up by the opportunistic strixes above. 

With a mighty shriek that pierced the heavens, the elk charged towards Lupa, horns bared. Fearlessly, Lupa grabbed onto the beast’s horns, and hoisted herself on top of the stag’s mighty rack. As she did so, the tips of the elk’s antlers ripped through Lupa’s sides, slicing deep into her subcutaneous tissue. 

Freshly enraged from her pain, Lupa pulled out her knife and drove it deep into the stag’s neck. It cried out and struggled in vain before collapsing to the ground a few moments later. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cato and Wulfric had been fighting for two hours now. In all honesty, he never expected Lupa’s father to put up such a fight. Maybe it was because he was much more skilled with an Axe than him. Cato had little experience with axes. Swords and polearms were always his choice when it came to melee weapons. Wulfric on the other hand, had fought with an axe for most of his life. The two were evenly matched. Cato needed to figure out how to put the odds in his favor. He looked into Wulfric’s eyes and saw not fury, but devotion. These were the eyes of a man who wanted the best for his daughter. The Ultramarine understood now. In order to win this fight, he needed to get into a certain mindset. Just like a stag fencing for the chance to get a mate, Cato thought about how badly he wanted to be with Lupa. He remembered the first time he met her, how alone and sad he felt. Nobody understood his pain before Lupa showed up. Nobody listened, or gave him the time of day like Lupa did. There was nobody- nobody but her. 

“ARGHHHH!” With a mighty swing, Cato’s axe sliced through the head of Wulfric’s axe, straight into his shoulder. 

The Space Wolf collapsed to the ground, defeated. The white snow below, now bright red as the blood dripped out of his shoulder. “You… Love my daughter deeply.” He exhaled. “I’ll be fine. Go now. Find her.” 

“Thank you, Wulfric.” Cato ran off, sniffing the air. The closer he got to the source of Lupa’s scent, the stronger other scents became. Those of rosemary, thyme, and blood. A few minutes later, he found Lupa tending to an elk roasting atop a fire. 

“Lupa!” He ran up to her. 

“Cato!” She tiredly smiled, awaiting his embrace. 

He hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. 

Lupa gently smiled. “You look like absolute shit.” 

“So do you. What happened?” 

“Typical Fenrisian things.” 

Cato let out a sigh of relief and collapsed onto the ground, his lover laying atop him, absolutely exhausted. 

“The food should be done by sunrise.” 

“I look forward to it.” Cato curled up next to the fire and pulled his robe over Lupa’s body. The two closed their eyes and drifted off, their barely-closed wounds rubbing up against each other. Although they were not married yet, their union had already been consummated by the mixing of their blood. And that was more than enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Fulgrim made it back to Seshat’s place, he made a beeline towards the fridge and started shoving handfuls of cake into his mouth. 

“Is everything alright, dude? You normally only eat like this when you’re upset.” Seshat asked worriedly. 

“I’m. Not. Stressed.” Fulgrim insisted in between bites. “I’m just hungry.” 

“Fulgrim, is everything okay with you and Slaanesh?” 

“No! He’s pissed, he’s going to be pissed!” He started crying and eating even faster. “But that’s it! Nothing else weird is going on!” 

“You’re going to get sick if you keep eating so fast!” She swiped the cake away from Fulgrim. “No more.” 

“GIVE ME BACK MY CAKE DAMMIT!” He started sobbing. 

“Fulgy…” She gently ran her fingers through his hair. “Are you afraid he’s going to hurt you?” Her tone was soft and understanding. 

“I don’t want you to see-” He hiccuped. “Me in this state. It’s embarrassing.” 

“Is this related to the panic attack you had when you first came to my place a few weeks ago?” 

“You tried to scratch up my back…” 

“I’m sorry…” She wiped a tear off his cheek. “Can you tell me why that upsets you?” 

“Slaanesh… Scratches up my back.” His voice broke. “He threatens to permanently scar me unless I follow his orders…” 

“You’re loyal to him though. Why does he think you’d disobey him in battle?” 

He shakily shook his head. “Not in battle…” 

Seshat looked at him with sad, but sympathetic eyes. “He… Takes advantage of you?” 

“Obviously.” 

“Come here.” She gently placed his head on her lap. Her eyes welled up with tears as she started to process the gravity of this situation. 

Fulgrim started sobbing even harder. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” 

“Shh…” Seshat hugged him, a tear falling down her feathered cheek. “It’s okay. I’ll never let that happen to you again.” 

“...Thank you…” 

They embraced for a long time, until Seshat finally spoke up. “I think I have an idea.” 

“What’s that?” Fulgrim asked, looking up at her with his puffy eyes. 

“Give me your phone.” 

“Uhh… Alright.” Fulgrim handed her his phone. 

Seshat started to type something out using Fulgrim’s Squawkr account. 

“Whoa! You can’t say that! What if people think I’m a liar!?” 

“You can’t be Slaanesh’s only victim, Fulgrim. Right?” 

The snake daemon sighed. “You’re right. There’s others. But- What if none of them take my side!?” 

“I’m a social media manager, Fulgrim. I know what I’m doing.” 

“Fine.” He shakily sighed. “Send the squawk then.” 

She sent the squawk to all of Fulgrim’s followers. Within seconds, there was a reply from one of his mutuals- a daemonette. 

“He does the same thing to me, even though I’m asexual! #IstandwithFulgrim #ShitManMeToo.” 

Fulgrim looked over to Seshat. “Which hashtag do you think will trend?” 

“The first one probably.” 

Fulgrim got another reply. Then another. And another. Within minutes, his squawk received hundreds of replies detailing the horrible things Slaanesh had done. All with #ShitManMeToo.

Seshat shrugged. “Huh. I guess I was wrong.” 

Fulgrim seemed anxious. “I’m glad that Slaanesh is getting cancelled. But what now? What happens when a chaos god gets cancelled?” 

“They die.” Seshat replied. 

“WHAT!? Where did you read that!?”

“It says so right here in the Necronomicon.” Seshat summoned a copy of the book and opened a page. 

Fulgrim read the passage to himself. “Shit. You’re right.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Imperial Palace, Gulliman and Yvraine were cuddling in bed. 

“Aww… I think I can feel it kick now.” Gulliman kissed her baby bump. 

Yvraine shot out of bed and sat up. “Slaanesh is dead.” 

Gulliman frowned. “I’m sorry, are you trying to say that I killed the mood?” 

“No. I’m saying that I just now sensed the death of Slaanesh.” 

“Huh. Well that’s good news. How do you suppose it happened?” 

Yvraine lay back down and sighed. “Who’s to say?” 


	27. Gain

“Erda, is everything in there okay?” Neoth furrowed his brow and sat up in bed, looking at the closed door to the master bathroom. 

“Holy shit!” She opened up the bathroom door and walked up to him, a wide grin on her face. “You’re not going to believe this!” She showed him a strange white stick. 

His eyes widened in surprise. “Huh. And all this time I thought I was infertile.” 

“Me too. But I guess there’s a few swimmers in you after all.” 

Neoth nervously smiled. “You’re going to be a good mother, Erda.” 

“Thanks…” She paused, not sure what to say. “I love you, Neoth.” 

“I love you too.” He lay back down and pulled the covers over his head. 

~   
  


The next day, the two were in the parking lot of the grocery store, loading their groceries into Neoth’s obnoxiously garish golden Hummer. 

Neoth picked up a few bags and put it into the trunk. “Is there anything else you want to do while we’re still in town?” 

“Do you think we could go out shopping for baby stuff?” 

The future Emperor frowned and shut the trunk. “Don’t you think it’s a little too soon? I mean, how far along are you?” 

“Six weeks I think.” 

He walked to the door of the driver’s seat. “I really think you should wait a month or two. This could just be a fluke. I mean, we’ve been fucking like animals since Ancient Mesopotamia. And this is the first time you’ve ever gotten pregnant from it.” 

Erda frowned and got into the passenger’s seat. “And why should I take advice about a woman’s body from a man who didn’t know what a clitoris was until he was 2,000 years old?” 

“It’s buried like, really deep down in there! How was I supposed to know!?” 

“UGHHHH.” She groaned, crossing her arms. 

“Erda…” He sighed, revving up the engines. “We can still go if you want to. It’s up to you.” 

“We can just window shop I guess…” 

“Alright.” 

The two sat in silence for a while as Neoth drove. A few minutes later, the car stopped at a red light. Neoth looked over. “I love you Erda.” 

“I love you too.” She sighed, looking out the window. 

~

A few days later, Erda and Neoth were laying down in bed. Things were peaceful, and Erda was the happiest she had been in centuries. Finally, she was going to be a mother. Truthfully, she didn’t even consider having children when she was younger. But over the years, she gradually warmed up to the concept and yearned to have children of her own. This wasn’t Ancient Mesopotamia. This was the year 2006. Things were finally good in the world. And plus, the economy in America was great. Both of them had jobs as college professors and had plenty of money to raise children. 

Neoth gently caressed Erda’s thighs, smirking. “You in the mood tonight?” 

She shook her head. “Not tonight. I don’t feel good.” 

“Alright.” 

The two lay down in silence for a few moments, until the pain in Erda’s abdomen became worse. 

Neoth looked up from his book. “Is everything okay? You look like you’re in a lot of pain.” 

“I probably just have to pee.” She got up and went inside the bathroom. 

~

About 15 minutes later, Neoth heard sobbing from the bathroom. He prepared himself for the worst. 

A few minutes later, Erda went out, her eyes red and swollen. She sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” She put her face in her hands. “I’ve been making duds this whole time and I didn’t even know.”

“What?” 

“Every few years, I just start bleeding incredibly heavily for a couple days. And then it stops.” 

“You… Get your period?” 

“No, you idiot! I’ve been miscarrying all this time and I was completely blind to the fact!” 

“I’m sorry.” He looked away uncomfortably. 

“I did this to myself.” She buried her head in her pillow. “I got my hopes up for nothing.” 

Not knowing what else to do, Neoth gently put his hand on her shoulder. “I promise, we’ll have kids one day. And you’re going to be a great mother. I guarantee it.” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
"Awww fuck yeah mommy. I've been a bad bitch, why don't you spank me over my desk?"   
  
  
Yvraine kissed Gulliman passionately. "How about I do that right now?"   
  
"Wait, shit. I hear someone." Gulliman pulled away. 

"YO!" Fulgrim suddenly barged into Gulliman’s office and sat down on his desk. “Hey, I’m sure you’ve already heard of this but, I killed Slaanesh.” He announced smugly while looking at his perfectly manicured nails. 

Yvraine seemed pissed. “You what?” 

“Yeah. I cancelled him on Squawkr.” 

“Let me get this straight. You easily killed the god that my people have been unsuccessfully trying to annihilate for millennia- by cancelling her on social media.” 

“Yep.” 

Yvraine was dumbfounded. “Good for you I guess?” She looked like she was about to blow a gasket. 

Gulliman changed the topic. “Hey Fulgrim. I have a great idea. Why don’t you uh- Look for our missing brothers.” 

“Great idea! A wedding isn’t a wedding without tons of guests!” He slithered away. 

Yvraine tugged Gulliman’s ear. “Why did you say that to him!?” 

The Ultramarine primarch shrugged. “What? What’s the worst that could happen?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Seshat! I know what we’re going to do today!” Fulgrim announced as he dramatically opened the door to her apartment. 

“Oh?” She looked up from her phone. 

“WE’RE GOING TO INFILTRATE THE DARK ANGELS MONASTERY AND REVIVE LION EL’JOHNSON.” 

“Shit, okay.” She put down her phone and got up from her bed. “We shall go after lunch. I’m making egg drop soup.” 

“Woohoo!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
The two daemons finally made it to The Rock. 

“Wow, this place looks like total dogshit.” Fulgrim mused. 

Seshat looked around. “Okay. We’ll need disguises to get in.” 

“Don’t worry.” Fulgrim pulled a fake mustache out of his pocket and put it on. “I’ve got one right here.” 

“Fulgrim. You’re hopeless.” She chuckled and cast a spell that made their clothes turn into Dark Angels armor. “There.” 

“I must say, this is quite unflattering.” Fulgrim moved his arms around the clunky armor. 

The two walked up to the entrance of the monastery.    
  
“Salutations.” Seshat said to a guard as she walked by, Fulgrim following close behind. 

Fulgrim looked around. “I must say. I quite like the gothic aesthetic of this place.” 

Seshat eyed two Dark Angels walking off somewhere. “Let’s go follow them.” 

“Good thinking.” 

The two followed the Dark Angels to a room on the second story. Around a dozen chapter members sat on folding chairs arranged in a circle. 

“Alright. Welcome to book club.” The apparent leader of the group said. “You all were supposed to read “The Portrait of Dorian Gray”. I assume you did so?

Everyone nodded. 

“Good. Now let’s discuss.” 

Fulgrim’s hand shot up. 

“Yes- Uh- What’s your name again?”    
  


“Emptygrim.” 

“Alright, Emptygrim. What’s your opinion on this book?” 

“It’s really fuckin gay.” He stated. 

The members of the book club gasped in horror. 

“How could you say that!?” One of the Dark Angels cried out. 

“Now calm down, Alfred. Let him speak.” 

Fulgrim stood up. “Allow me to explain!” He put one of his hands behind his back and gestured for Seshat to give him a copy. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Imperial Palace, Magnus was reading a book. “Oh shit, this is the part where it gets really gay.” 

The book vanished. 

“Huh?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A copy of The Portrait of Dorian Gray magically manifested into Seshat’s hands and she handed it over to Fulgrim. 

“Thanks.” He continued. The serpentine daemon opened up the book. “This book is undeniably gay. Allow me to read this passage.” 

_ “. . . Tell me more about Dorian Gray. How often do you see him?” _

_ “Every day. I couldn’t be happy if I didn’t see him every day. Of course sometimes it is only for a few minutes. But a few minutes with somebody one worships mean a great deal.” _

_ “But you don’t really worship him?” _

_ “I do.” _

_ “How extraordinary! I thought you would never care for anything but your painting,—your art, I should say. Art sounds better, doesn’t it?” _

_ “He is all my art to me now. . . “ _

Fulgrim shut the book. “See? He worships Dorian! That’s pretty fuckin gay if you ask me.” 

The Dark Angels flipped to that page. 

Alfred frowned. “That part isn’t in the book. Did you just make that up?” 

“Yeah. Same here.” Another Dark Angel added. 

“What edition are you reading?” Fulgrim showed everyone the back of his copy. “This is the 1890 edition.” 

Alfred compared his book to Fulgrim’s. “Our chapter has the 1891 edition.”    
  
“A-ha! Which means it was censored! Which implies gay implications!” 

“No it doesn’t!” The book club leader shouted. 

“Why can’t you just admit that this book is gay!?” Fulgrim pleaded. 

Another Dark Angel laughed. “Ha! We’ll admit this book is gay when Hell freezes over!” 

“Or when pigs fly!” Another one chortled. 

“Or when Cypher’s secret identity is revealed!” 

Fulgrim furrowed his brow. “Well I refuse to admit that I’m wrong about anything! So I shall do one of those things!” He grabbed Seshat’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go to your room.” 

“Uh. Alright.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why did you want to go back to Tzeentch’s palace?” Seshat asked, confused. 

“So we could come up with a plan on how to prove I’m right without those creepy Dark Angels snooping. I am willing to die on this hill, Seshat!” 

“A bit of an overreaction, but I understand, I guess. I hate when people can’t admit they’re wrong.” 

Fulgrim paced around the room. “So, what do you propose we do?” 

“Well, we can’t make every pig fly. And we can’t make the entire Warp freeze. So let’s find out who this Cypher guy really is.”    
  
“Great idea, but how?” Fulgrim mused. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Soooo, you want to know where Cypher is?” Tzeentch snickered. 

“Yeah um- duh. That’s what we just asked, Tzeentch.” Fulgrim scoffed. 

“The Cypher you’re looking for is on the planet Kiavahr, residing in Crow Cave. Did you find that information helpful?” 

Fulgrim shrugged. “I guess.” 

“Good. Now get the fuck out of here. Nurgle and I are debating Steven Universe.” 

“Okay.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Here we are. Crow Cave.” Seshat stopped at a vaguely crow-shaped cave. 

“I can see why they call it that.” Fulgrim lead the way, slithering inside the large cave. “Be careful, Seshat.” 

“I’m careful by my very nature.” 

A few meters into the cave, Fulgrim spotted a mysterious cloaked man. “That’s him! Yo Cypher! Over here, Cypher!” He waved his arms frantically. 

The cloaked man slowly walked up to Fulgrim, saying nothing. He stopped and looked up at Fulgrim’s face, still obscured by the Dark Angels helmet Seshat put on him earlier. “Brother…” 

“Yes! I am your brother. We are both Dark Angels, after all.” 

Seshat elbowed Fulgrim. 

“Do not assume I am unaware of your intentions. For I know the past, the present, and the future. I am the beginning, and I am the end.” His hood obscured his eyes, as well as most of his face. “I’ve been waiting for you. The time of Lion’s awakening is drawing close. Come, let us signal the others of the end times.” 

Fulgrim shrugged. “Okay. But first, let me ask you a question: are the Dark Angels like- gay or something? They seem really repressed and in denial about something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” 

“Yes. They’re all really fucking gay. Especially you, brother.” 

“Even you?” 

“I am simply nothing.” 

“Love who you love I guess.” 

“ILOVENOBODY!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fulgrim, Seshat, and Cypher walked into The Rock. 

“Alright, gaywads. I found Cypher. Now come out of the closet already!” Fulgrim announced. 

“Holy shit, he really did it.” Alfred whispered. 

“Alright, fine. We’re all gay.” One of them admitted. 

“And we are all deeply ashamed of it!” Another added. 

“But does it really matter? Everyone here is like, brothers. So we can’t really be gay for EACHOTHER, can we?” 

Fulgrim smirked. “Correct. But don’t worry. I have you all covered.” He elbowed Seshat. 

Seshat whistled and several thousand male guardsmen came marching in. 

“THEY’RE ALL GAY! ALL OF THEM!” Fulgrim announced. “Let’s get this shagfest started!” 

The speakers started playing Earth, Wind, & Fire- September. 

While all the Dark Angels were distracted by the opportunity to finally be themselves, Cypher turned to face Seshat and Fulgrim. “I want to thank you for helping me in my endeavors. Now listen- we don’t have a lot of time. Lion is resting deep within this monastery. And we need to awaken him.” 

Seshat raised an eyebrow. “And just why do you want to awaken Lion so badly?” 

“So I can punch him in the face.” 

“Fair.” Fulgrim shrugged. “Don’t we all.” 

A few minutes later, the three made it to the hall containing Lion’s chambers. 

Fulgrim looked around. “I sense guards, what are we going to do?”

“Hold on. I have an idea.”    
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus set aside the three potions he had just finished brewing. “There! My potion that turns you into an ant for 10 seconds is finally complete. I sure hope nobody steals this potion that turns you into an ant for 10 seconds.” 

Suddenly, his potions that turn you into an ant for 10 seconds vanished into thin air. “FUCK!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some potions manifested into Seshat’s hands. “Here.” She handed a potion to everybody. 

Fulgrim seemed surprised once again. “Where do you keep getting this shit!?” 

“I’m a divination mage, dearie.” She said before drinking the potion and running off. 

Everyone did the same and followed. They skittered past the guards and under the door, just before turning back into their regular forms again. 

There sat Lion, sleeping peacefully on his throne. 

“How do you suppose we wake him up?” Fulgrim asked. 

“Hold on.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus was carrying a bucket of fresh water to put in his cauldron. 

  
“Gee, I sure hope-” He shook his head. “No. I’m not gonna jinx it this time!” 

Suddenly, his bucket disappeared. “FUCK!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A bucket of water suddenly manifested into Seshat’s hands. 

“Seriously! Where the hell do you keep getting this shit!?” 

Seshat walked up to Lion and splashed the bucket of water on his head. 

“AGHHH WHAT THE-” Lion woke up suddenly and looked around. “Why have I been awakened?” 

Fulgrim took off his helmet, revealing his identity. “The end times are near, and The Emperor is soon to be revived.”    
  


“And?” 

“And Gulliman wants you at his wedding.” 

“Seriously?” Lion groaned. “What’s she like?” 

“An Eldar.” Fulgrim replied casually. 

“ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE ME A FATAL AMOUNT OF PSYCHIC DAMAGE AGAIN!?” 

Cypher spoke up. “Also, I’ve been meaning to do this for thousands of years.” He ran up and punched Lion in the jaw, his cloak came down in the process as he landed on his feet. 

Fulgrim was stunned. How was he so blind- how did he not realize- “KONRAD!?” 

He looked back at Fulgrim with his pitch-black, lifeless eyes. “It’s good to see you again, brother.” 


	28. The Wallpaper was Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fulgrim tries to get through to Konrad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Brief mention of implied sexual assault

The wallpaper of the nursery was yellow. That was one of the many small, insignificant details Erda remembered so vividly. How could she forget the birthplace of her children? How could she forget each little face? 

“I’m very excited, my Emperor.” 

“For what?” He looked up from his book. 

“To finally be a mother. You always told me I would be a good mother.” Erda gently smiled, looking at Neoth with trusting eyes. 

“Yes. And you are. You’ve successfully helped in the creation of 20 amazing babies. Your work here is done.” His expression was cold and unwavering. 

“Well, done in creating them of course. But we still need to raise them.” 

He frowned. “Erda. There is no ‘we’ in this matter. As I said, your work here is done. I want you to do no more.”    
  
“But- Our children!” She seemed shocked. 

The Emperor of Mankind sighed heavily. “I have decided that I do not want you in their lives.” He furrowed his brow. “Erda, I love you but- You’re too soft. I know this isn’t what you wanted. But in order for us to reunite mankind, my children need to be trained to be war machines. These are no ordinary babies. They are the saviors of our species. I cannot afford to make any mistakes. I hope you understand.” 

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Can I at least hold them before I have to go?”    
  
Neoth shook his head. “No. You’d get attached. Look- Just go out and adopt a baby, Erda. Get another. It’s not that hard.” 

“You don’t understand!” She shouted. 

“Erda, let’s not allow your womanly emotions get the best of you.” 

“You are literally the worst!” She started to weep. 

His expression grew more taciturn. “Please get out of my office. I need to work.” 

“You’re not the man I fell in love with!” 

“I’ve become more utilitarian and logical over the years.” Neoth narrowed his eyes. “Unlike you, I don’t let my feelings get in the way of my work. It seems you fell in love with the young and idealistic version of me, and viewed me as such up until this very moment. Admittedly, I’m impressed by your sheer refusal to realize how much I’ve changed over the years. It seems every “red flag” you ever saw in me was overlooked because you fell in love with the idea of me, and not me myself. But that’s not my fault. You alone are to blame for your naivety.” 

“You’re a fucking sociopath!” 

He chuckled a little. “It took you that long to realize?” 

Without another word, she stormed out and slammed the door. 

~~~   
  


“What the hell am I going to do now…” Erda sobbed into her pillow a few minutes later. She couldn’t let The Emperor go through with this. Her own flesh and blood, being turned into weapons of mass destruction. Mere tools to further Neoth’s agenda. She couldn’t let that happen. Not without a fight at least. 

“Hey. I know how it feels.” A haunting feminine voice echoed. 

Erda looked up. “Huh?” 

A greater daemon of Tzeentch stood on Erda’s headboard, talons balancing effortlessly on the wood. “I was a mother just like you when I was human. Many miscarriages I suffered, until I finally gave birth to my son. Only for him to be taken away by the enemy and raised to be a tool of war.” 

“That’s awful…” 

“It haunts me to this day.” 

Erda furrowed her brow. “What do you want from me though?” 

“Tzeentch needed to send someone who knew exactly how you felt, so here I am.” 

“There’s no way I’m resorting to Chaos.” 

“Well, the choice is up to you, Erda. But just know that I would’ve killed to be in your shoes. For my son to have had a choice in life. But instead, he was forced to slaughter. If only you could’ve seen the look in his eyes. Devoid of all hope or purpose. Nothing but a pawn in the nobleman’s great game of serf chess. Until he was eventually slaughtered in battle, never knowing his life could’ve been so much greater. Is that what you want?” 

“Perhaps…” 

The bird daemon’s face softened a little. “Would you like to see Tzeentch now?” 

“I think I would…” 

~~~~

This was the first time Erda had seen Tzeentch face-to-face. She had seen glimpses of him throughout her life, but they were always fleeting visions in The Warp. There was a strange, amorphous feeling to him. Yet she could still see a definite shape to him. The chaos god turned his head to his greater daemon. “Seshat… Thank you for bringing her all the way to my palace.” 

“My pleasure.” She walked out of the room, leaving Erda alone with Tzeentch. 

“Erda… I have a proposition for you. Reveal the location of the primarchs to me, and I’ll make sure to scatter them all across the galaxy, far from The Emperor’s reach.” 

The woman furrowed her brow. “Why not just kill them in cold blood? Wouldn’t that make things easier for you?” 

He shook his head. “Oh no. No. These children are far too useful to my cause.” 

“So instead of letting them be servants of The Emperor, you’re just going to force them to be servants to chaos?” 

“Only a few, Erda. My colleagues and I will get the pick of the litter. The rest will have their free will.” 

She sighed. “This is a real Sophie’s Choice.” 

“Are you tzhitting me? This isn’t a Sophie’s Choice. You either choose between twenty of your kids having no freewill, or four.”

“You can have the four for a thousand years. But that’s it.” 

“Twenty.” 

“Five.” 

“Ten.” 

Erda thought it over for a moment. “Fine. Ten thousand years for each kid of the four. But no more.” 

Tzeentch tzmirked. “Alright, do you agree to these terms?” 

“Only if I get to be in their lives. I want to hold them, I want to see them in person. They need to know that they’re loved, Tzeentch.” 

“I promise. But it will be a long time before you’ll see them again. I have things I need to do first.” 

“I accept these terms.” 

Tzeentch gently hovered his clawed hand over Erda’s head, reading her memories. “The Primarchs will be scattered in an hour at sundown. 10 minutes after the 22nd hour. Thank you, Erda.” He raised his head up. “Seshat! Escort Erda back to her room!” 

“Yes, my lord.” Seshat quickly walked back into the room. The chicken daemon gently clasped Erda’s hand and teleported her back to her bedroom in the Imperial Palace. “I promise, you’re doing the right thing. Don’t forget that.” 

“I am forever grateful for the help of you and your patron god.” 

“I promise you, they’re in good hands, Erda.” 

~~~~

Erda snuck into the laboratory as soon as it closed and all the scientists were out. She knew she only had 10 minutes before the primarchs would be scattered. Just long enough to hold each one for a few seconds, accounting for the time it took to open and shut their incubation chambers. Carefully, she went around the room, opening each chamber and gently embracing her tiny infants, before putting them back. A few minutes later, she made it to the last two capsules. Erda opened up one containing a bald baby who cheerfully smiled at her. Using her abilities to peer into The Warp, Erda saw a sad future for the baby. He was to be abused by his foster father. Longingly, she looked into his big eyes. “You are loved, Lorgar. Maybe not by your biological, nor adoptive father. But I will always love you, no matter what choices you make in life. And I promise, you will see that one day.” 

As she lowered the newborn Lorgar back into the incubation pod, he started to wail and push the door away, desperately wanting his mother to hold him longer. But she couldn’t. Not when there was one baby left. Finally, she managed to get him in, then she looked over to the final capsule. A baby with raven black hair and sharp, vampiric teeth. He started to fuss for his mother’s attention, little hands clawing on the glass. She could tell that he wanted to be held so badly. But as Erda hovered her hand over the door, the capsule glowed blue, then disappeared. 

_ “I’m sorry I didn’t get to hold you…”  _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aww shit.” Magnus looked through his stockpile of alchemy ingredients. 

“What’s wrong?” Beowulf asked as he peered over to see what Magnus was looking for. 

“I think I’m out of Shrinkroot.” 

“Shrinkroot?” 

“Yeah. It’s a type of root used in making potions of shrinking. I used it up last night on those potions that mysteriously vanished.” Magnus sifted through the contents of a drawer. 

“Maybe they just shrunk?” 

“No, they only produce a shrinking reaction when their cell wall is eroded by amylase. Those bottles were corked shut. There’s no way any saliva could’ve gotten in there.” 

“Well. We can always get more.” Beowulf suggested. 

Magnus frowned. “Slight problem, Beowulf. It’s out of season and sold out everywhere. Although, there is some growing in the garden at Tzeentch’s palace.” 

“Are you gonna go?” 

“I suppose so.” He sighed. “I’ll be back shortly.  _ I hope _ .” He then vanished into The Warp. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seshat and Fulgrim were in Fulgrim’s room at the Imperial Palace, lying down in his bed. 

“Feeling frisky today, are we?” Fulgrim asked with a smirk as Seshat started to get handsy with him.

She giggled, but then took her hands off him. “Wait, hold on. What about Konrad?” 

He frowned. “My brother? He hasn’t given me too much trouble. He’s mostly nocturnal. Plus, I left out some wet food in a bowl for him in case he gets hungry.” 

“You’re such a good brother.” Seshat gently pecked Fulgrim on the cheek. 

“Oooh- Hoho….” Fulgrim wrapped his arms around Seshat’s waist and started kissing her. 

The bird daemon pushed Fulgrim down on the bed and the two started aggressively kissing. 

“Aww fuck yeah. Say something mean to me about how bad my manicure is.” 

“Your nails look like they were done in the dark by a ravenous pack of orks.” 

“Oh you stupid bitch, come here.” 

They started kissing even harder, with Seshat on top, grabbing Fulgrim with full strength, careful to keep her claws away from his skin. 

And in a flash- she vanished into thin air. Fulgrim looked around, confused. “Konrad!?” 

_ “Grrrrrr…” _ Konrad Kurze held Seshat by her neck, shoving her up against the wall just a few feet away. “You’re about to pay the ultimate price for your sins...” He raised his claws and struck at her throat.

“DON’T!” Fulgrim quickly grabbed Konrad by the wrist and pushed him away, right before his claws managed to break the skin. “What the hell was that!?” 

“I was protecting you!” The Night Haunter snarled. 

“Protecting me from what!? Getting laid!?”   


“From getting hurt obviously!” 

Fulgrim looked at his brother- dumbfounded. The room went silent. He slowly looked over at Seshat, who was still in shock at what had just happened. “Hey um- Could you give us some privacy please?” 

“Yeahhhhhhh….” The bird daemon slowly stepped out of the room. 

“Konrad…” Fulgrim sighed heavily. “Why would you think that?” 

“She was touching you! I didn’t want you to get hurt!” 

Fulgrim just stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds. “Konrad… You know that people touch each other to feel good sometimes, right?” 

“W-what?” 

“We were touching each other because we like each other. It feels good to touch someone you like.” 

“People- Like being touched?” 

“Of course. Do you?” Fulgrim’s tone turned more gentle and understanding. 

“No!” 

“Why not?” 

The Night Haunter furrowed his brow. “When people touch me, they hurt me.” 

“Is that why you don’t trust People? Have you never trusted people?” 

“No…” 

“I don’t mean to pry into your personal life, but-” Fulgrim furrowed his brow. “Did something traumatic happen to you as a child?” 

He looked away. “When I had just crawled out of Nostramos’s core I roamed, the streets, looking for other humans. I made the mistake of trusting someone- I made the mistake of being vulnerable.” His voice broke. “I was scared and alone- And he led me away from other people and-” The Night Haunter shook his head. “Never again.” 

“I’m sorry…” Without thinking, Fulgrim tried to pull him in for a hug. 

Konrad hissed at Fulgrim and slashed at the daemon’s face with his claws- leaving a large scratch on his face. 

“I-” Fulgrim gently put his hand on his own cheek and felt blood. 

There was a wild, terrified look in the Night Haunter’s eyes. 

“Konrad…” 

“I told you not to touch me…” Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, making them sparkle like one of those shitty Twilight vampires. He quivered violently, and slowly backed away, terrified to turn his back to Fulgrim. Slowly, he made his way out of the room and out of sight. 

Fulgrim just stood there, not sure what else to do. 

Seshat walked back into the room a few moments later. “Hey, are you okay?” 

The daemon primarch sighed heavily and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Seshat… We need to talk.” 

“Yes?” There was a look of fear in the daemon’s eyes as she sat down next to Fulgrim. 

“Look. You know I love you, but.” He paused. “We need to break up.”

“What? Why?” 

“I have too much on my plate right now, and it wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m still trying to process all this trauma, and now I need to help Konrad with his. I guess what I’m trying to say is- I really need to focus on myself right now.” 

Tears welled up in Seshat’s eyes. 

“Seshat…” Fulgrim gently wiped the tear with his thumb. “I promise, you’re going to find someone so much better than me. Someone who will give you their full attention. Someone with no emotional baggage, just like you.” 

She took a deep breath and sighed. “You wanna know something funny, Fulgrim? I knew this was going to happen. I always do this to myself.” 

“Then why did you go through with it?” 

“I just figured it would be nice to have you for a while. And it was nice for you, right?” 

“Yeah.” Fulgrim gently smiled. “It was. And you really helped me with a lot. Thank you.” 

The two gently embraced before standing up. 

“Well, see you around I guess.” Fulgrim said. 

Seshat gently stroked the primarch’s cheek. “Wanna have hot breakup sex?” 

“Maybe next week if I can find the time.” 

Seshat was about to head out the door. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” 

“For now at least.” 

“Yeah.” She gently smiled. “Konrad’s lucky to have a brother like you. Take care of him, alright?” 

“Of course.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Magnus snuck through the palace, he was stopped by Seshat. She looked pissed and vaguely upset. “Magnus, Tzeentch knows you’re here.” 

“Crikey.” He groaned.

“He told me to tell you to take the western entrance to the garden.” 

“Why? Shrinkroot grows in the eastern half of the garden.” 

“Trust me, Magnus. You need to do this.” 

“Fine.” Magnus turned around and went all the way to the other side of the palace. As he walked down the vast halls, he felt a familiar presence, which grew stronger and stronger as he got closer to the western entrance. He couldn’t quite put his finger on who it came from though. Perhaps a childhood friend? Another daemon prince he crossed paths with? Whoever it was, they seemed warm and inviting. When he finally made it to the garden, he saw a small human woman sitting down on a bench. Tan skin and black hair like her father’s. She wore a silk headscarf. But despite that, he could tell this person wasn’t from Prospero. No- It couldn’t be? Her psychic signature was powerful, and remarkably similar to his. This woman was unmistakably his- 

“Mother!?” Magnus got closer to the short woman and knelt down. “I have a mother?!” His one eye welled up with tears, overwhelmed by the situation. 

Erda stood up and embraced Magnus. “I’ve been waiting so long for this moment…” 

“I have a mother…” He thought to himself. He had a charmed childhood filled with many parental figures, but never a mother. Never his actual mother. Who the hell was this woman and what were her secrets? Why did he never see her until now? So many questions were running through his head. Overwhelmed with maternal love, he shapeshifted back into a young child, allowing Erda to hold him close. 

“I love you, Magnus. I’ve been waiting so long to tell you that.” 

“I love you too, mother…” 

The two remained in their embrace for what felt like forever…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Konrad! There you are!” Fulgrim walked into the kitchen, where Konrad was eating Count Chocula straight out of the box. He pulled a DVD from out of his pocket. “I was thinking- We could watch Nights in Rodanthe together? Yeah, I know it’s a chick flick and it’s a bit cheesy. But it’s beautifully shot. You see, Diane Lane goes to find herself in North Caro-” 

“I’ve seen every Diane Lane movie at least five times.” Konrad snarled. 

Fulgrim raised an eyebrow. “What? You have?” 

“Yes. The Dark Angels ate that shit up. “ 

“Okay. Paris is Burning.” 

“Ten times.” 

Fulgrim opened his mouth to suggest another thing. 

“I’ve seen Mean Girls 10 times.” 

Fulgrim paused for a moment, then opened his mouth again. 

“I’ve been forced to watch Legally Blonde more times than I can count.” 

“Alright then. You pick the movie.” 

Konrad thought for a moment. “How about a horror movie?” 

“OOOOH! Sharknado!” 

“NO!” Curze hissed. 

“Scary Movie 2!”

“Never heard of that one. I’ll be the judge of that.” 

“Oh trust me! It’s super scary! I hope you’re wearing two pairs of underpants, because you’re gonna shit your pants.” 

“What the hell are underpants?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  


Fulgrim used to have a pet snake named Ziggy. And every time he would go to refill Ziggy’s water bowl, the little snake would lash out and bite him. Since Ziggy was a rescue, he was terrified of humans and would respond by biting them. So in order to avoid getting his manicure chipped, he started changing Ziggy’s water bowl using salad tongs. But Ziggy still trembled at the sight of him. He felt bad for the poor little snake. And realized that for Ziggy to be happy, he needed to get over his fear of humans. And so Fulgrim would hold Ziggy every day, and give him little kisses on the forehead. He would bite, and hiss, and squirm. But eventually, he got used to being touched. And after many months, Ziggy lost his fear of humans. He would even come out and greet Fulgrim whenever he walked by his aquarium. Finally, the snake was happy. 

Konrad reminded Fulgrim of Ziggy. For he too was terrified of people and liked to eat dead rats. Perhaps he too could benefit from losing his fear of humans. “Hey Konrad?” 

“Yeah?” 

The two were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, watching the movie. 

Fulgrim looked at Konrad with big, innocent eyes. “Can we hold hands during the scary parts of Scary Movie 2?” 

Konrad furrowed his brow. “I just looked up this movie on the internet. There’s no scary parts in this movie.” 

“That’s subjective.” 

“I refuse to hold your hand.” He snarled. 

“Why not?” 

“Because holding hands is a very crude and barbaric gesture”, the Night Haunter explained before licking a ladybug off the edge of the couch and munching on it. 

Fulgrim blinked. “You are utterly unhinged! But oh gods, do I admire your shamelessness.” 

Konrad frowned. “I am not shameless, brother. Unlike you, I do not degrade myself in the name of pleasure. You may see my actions as debaucherous, but that is far from the truth.” 

“I do such things, because I know I deserve to feel good. Is it bad to love yourself, Konrad?” 

“Anyone who loves me is plagued with delusion.” He growled. 

“Konrad. You’re also delusional, to be fair.” 

“Thanks. Another reason for me to hate myself.” The Night Haunter scowled. 

Suddenly, a telepathic transmission boomed through Fulgrim’s mind. And seemingly Konrad’s as well.  _ “Meet me in the living room next to the royal family dining hall. We have an important family matter on our hands.”  _

Magnus? Family matter? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus, Fulgrim, Konrad, Leman, Rogal, Gulliman, Lion, and Cygnus finally arrived. Lion sat down on the couch and looked over to Cygnus. “Cygnus. It’s been a while. Committing treason as usual?” 

“Yeah. When I’m not knee-deep in pussy.” She scoffed. 

“Lion doesn’t understand sarcasm.” Leman said in a harsh whisper, that was loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“That didn’t sound like sarcasm!” Lion said from across the room. 

Leman smirked. “See?” 

Magnus walked in. “You all may be wondering why I brought you here.” 

Leman spoke up. “So you could betray us all again and punch our hearts out both literally and metaphorically?” He looked over to Lion. “Oi, Lion. See what I did there.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Leman.” Magnus continued. “This might sound crazy, but bear with me here. It turns out we have a mother. A woman who was our father’s companion for most of his life, and eventually our biological mother. And she would like to meet you all.” 

The expressions of the primarchs ranged from mildly intrigued to bewildered. 

Erda walked into the room, nervously smiling. 

“Mother!” Gulliman was the first to run up to her, followed by Leman “I hope ya like hugs!” Fulgrim and Rogal soon followed suit. Erda was greeted with an eager bear hug from Leman, Gulliman also lovingly wrapped his arms around the two. 

Cygnus scooted up to Lion. “I don’t care to see my mother. As far as I know, I have no parents, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”    
  


“Same.” Lion replied. 

“Wanna smoke a blunt?” Cygnus asked. 

“Okay.” The two got up and headed towards Cygnus’s room to smoke a fattie. 

After getting hugs from four of her sons, Erda looked over to see Konrad quietly watching everyone from the couch. She gently smiled. “I’m sorry I never got to hug you when you were a baby. How about now?” She went up to Konrad. 

The Night Haunter was hit with visions of love and affection. It was full of warmth- something he absolutely despised. Without another thought, he jumped up and clung to the ceiling like a scared cat, and hissed like one too. 

Erda looked at him with forlorn eyes. As an empath, she could feel his pain. And it absolutely tore her heart to shreds. “Whenever you’re ready, Konrad, I’ll be here for you.” 

And then, he skittered off somewhere. 

Erda sighed heavily. 

Sympathetic, Gulliman tried to change the topic. “Hey, would you like to meet my fiance?” 

The woman perked up a little. “Oh? You’re getting married?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, Fulgrim went to the kitchen and put out a bowl of wet cat food. “Pspspspspspsps” He pspsps’d. 

Konrad emerged from the dark shadow of the fridge and snatched up the bowl. “Fulgrim…” 

“Yes?” 

“Why do you continue to care for me, even though I refuse you to give you the affection and intimacy you desire?” 

“Because I love you. You’re my brother, and I will always love you no matter what.” 

A small amount of light filtered in through the door to the other room, letting Fulgrim catch a small glimpse of Konrad’s confused and pained expression. “I don’t understand.” 

“You will someday.” 

“Your tenacity astounds me.” Was the last thing the Night Haunter said before vanishing back into the shadows. 

Fulgrim turned around and sighed, finally ready to head back to bed. “I’ll get through to you one day, Konrad.”    
  


_ “For Ferrus’s sake.”  _


	29. Love and Political Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gulliman's wedding is quickly approaching. But suddenly, he has doubts

The long awaited day was finally here. Gulliman was to be married alongside Cato. Of course, this was his and Yvraine’s real wedding. The one that would be held on Terra the following day would be just for show. He stood in his dressing room, listening to the subtle sounds of the room’s clock as the final hour ticked away. This was it. This was real. And he was absolutely terrified. 

Sure, he loved Yvraine. But was she marriage material? She was great- But… He always felt like there was someone out there that he’d have much better chemistry with. Like, that rogue trader woman for example. He imagined Yvraine felt the same. Apparently, he was the only man she was really attracted to. She told him that when he started hooking up with her regularly. Clearly, she had a preference. And he was not preferred. Gulliman started to feel guilty for knocking her up, and potentially dooming her to a life of mediocrity. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. “Come in.” 

Cato walked in and shut the door behind him. Then he noticed Gulliman’s expression. “Hey, is everything alright?” 

“Just a bit nervous. That’s all.” The primarch sighed. 

“Yeah. Me too. I hope I don’t accidentally stutter while reading my vows. Or accidentally offend the strange cultural sensibilities of Lupa’s family. I wonder how Lupa’s doing. I almost feel bad. Putting on a wedding dress seems nearly as hard as putting on this ceremonial armor.” 

“Yeah…” Gulliman was silent for a moment. “How do you know you love Lupa?” 

“Huh?” The duke furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?” 

“Like- What do you feel? How do you  _ know  _ you’re in love with her?”    
  


“Well. I always get excited when I see her. And I feel like I can’t live without her. She’s like a missing piece of me. She makes me want to be a better person. Ever since she came into my life, it’s been so much better. I’ve never been happier.” 

“And what if I don’t feel that way?” 

“Well, it’d be weird if you felt that way about Lupa too. But I guess it would make sense. She is quite remarkable in every sense of the word. Just like me.“

“No, Cato. I mean about Yvraine. I don’t feel that way about Yvraine.” 

Cato frowned. “Then don’t get married? You deserve the best, m’lord.” 

“Well, it’s a bit late for that.” Gulliman sighed. “I have to get married. It would be weird to have a bastard child.” 

“Not really. Most kings have a few dozen or so bastard children.” 

“I don’t want my daughter to grow up without a father. She deserves better. I mean, my adoptive parents were in a political marriage. Why not follow in their footsteps?” 

“My father used to beat me with a stick for dillydallying. But you don’t see me beating random kids with a stick.” 

“Wow. That’s dark.” 

“But I mean- At the end of the day, this is your choice.” 

Gulliman sighed. “You’re right.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Cato and Gulliman stood at the altar, anxiously awaiting their brides. In between them stood Marneus Calgar, who was officiating. 

Yvraine walked down the aisle. Alongside Lupa, whose arm was linked to her father’s until she made it to the altar. Wulfric winked at Cato before sitting back down in the front row, next to his wife and Leman Russ. 

Once the brides stood at the altar, Marneus finally spoke up. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Roboute Gulliman and Yvraine. As well as Cato Sicarius and Lupa Vallhart. I am honored to officiate the wedding of my Primarch and his third favorite soldier.” 

Sol gave Calgar a discreet thumbs up from the third row, winking. 

“The grooms may now say their vows.” 

  
Gulliman spoke up first. “Yvraine, when I first met you, I never thought you’d be the one. But through the years, you proved me wrong. And here I stand today. I look forward to living alongside you for many more years to come.” 

Then Cato spoke up. “Lupa, when I first met you, I was a broken man. I had just come from hell and back, only to be swept up once again into the hell of war. And amidst the chaos of the battlefield, you swept me off my feet and changed my life forever. You challenged the way I saw things and changed my entire worldview. You dragged me out of my shell, and I owe you everything for that. You, Lupa Vallhart, Captain and champion of the Fenrisian Guard. And now the Grand Duchess of Talassar. Bringer of hope and justice. The kindest, strongest woman I have ever known. And I, Cato Sicarius, Captain of the Victrix Honour Guard, Master of the Watch, Knight Champion of Macragge, Grand Duke of Talassar, and High Suzerain of Ultramar. The greatest man I have ever met. Master of the weapons triangle, long-distance swimming, and laconic phrase, stand here today besides my bride at the altar. I solemnly swear to love you forever, and always. May we spend the rest of our days side-by-side. 

Calgar continued. “The brides may now say their vows.” 

Lupa spoke up even though Yvraine was supposed to go first. “Cato. You’ve brought me more joy and love than anyone else in this galaxy has ever given me. And for that, I thank you. She squinted at the piece of paper in her hand. “Wait, hold on- I can’t read my own handwriting.”    
  


Calgar sighed. 

“Wait no. Hold on. I was holding it upside-down. Oh, right. I was lost until you found me, and then hugged me so tight, that it pieced every part of me back together. For the first time in years, I had direction. And everywhere I turned, I saw you. I remember our first date. When we went to that one place where all their pasta was microwaved and the breadsticks were stale, but I insisted it was fancy and you went along with it. So then I ordered the octopus linguini, and you ordered everything on the menu. And then we spent 5 minutes arguing about the pronunciation of linguini. And then I had to reapply my mascara, so I went to the bathroom, but my mascara got into my eyeball somehow, so I accidentally went into the back room and discovered one of the employees talking to a daemon of Tzeentch, and then I discovered this entire restaurant was part of a daemonic conspiracy started by the Thousand Sons to see how much sawdust you could put into marinara sauce before people started to notice. So then I went back and told Cato, and we ate, and then we slaughtered several thousand daemons and prevented millions of humans from having to eat spaghetti with sawdust in it.” 

Cato blankly stared at her. “Sweetie uh- That was our third date. Our first date was when you cooked cinnamon rolls for me in the monastery’s kitchen, and for some reason your apron said ‘kiss the cook’, and I thought that was an order, so I kissed you. And then you kissed back, and we made out in the pantry, and accidentally knocked a gallon of peanut oil off the top shelf, and then I slipped on it and broke my wrist, and you were there to heal me.” 

Lupa blinked. “Wait- So what was our second date then?” 

Calgar looked at his watch. “Can you please just finish, Lupa?”

“Sure. Sorry. Anyways, Cato. I love you, and I’ve dreamed of this day ever since I was a little girl. Okay I’m done.” 

Yvraine gently smiled at Gulliman. “When I first met you, I didn’t understand love. I grew up in a culture much different from yours. One where people would constantly take advantage of one another. Not even friendship was common. But when we met, you opened me to a whole world of feelings I had been deprived of for much too long. And for that, I thank you. You showed me the light, and I’m forever in your gratitude.” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“You may now kiss.” 

And then both couples kissed at once.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things got a little crazy after the wedding reception. All the Fenrisians were dancing, drunkenly shouting, and eating everything in sight. But as per usual, Gulliman was rather calm and composed, sitting with Yvraine as he watched the madness happen. “Did you try the cake?” 

Yvraine frowned, looking at her slice of cake that had barely been touched. “It’s okay. The filling really isn’t my thing.” 

“Yeah. Lupa said the filling is cloudberry jam.” 

“Cloudberries…”    
  
Yvraine sighed. “Yeah.” 

In their line of sight, Cato and Lupa were dancing as a shitty Sabaton cover band was screaming out something incomprehensible. He was happy for the two. But he couldn’t help but feel jealous. 

“Is there something wrong, dear?”, Yvraine asked.

“Nope. I’m just tired.” 

“You say you’re tired all the time.” 

“Well it’s true. I’m a very busy man.” 

The Eldar could see right through him. “Don’t bullshit yourself, Roboute. When you say you’re in a mood like this because you’re tired, you’re only half-true.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

“I- Understand.” Yvraine let out a stifled sigh. “I just wish you’d open up more.” 

Gulliman hardly said a word for the rest of the night. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was now finally the day of the royal wedding. Of course, the ceremony itself was boring and just for show. The real action was at the reception. 

Gulliman sat down next to Yvraine as he watched Cato and Lupa have the time of their lives, tearing up the dance floor and being a safety hazard in general. He sighed. 

Yvraine smirked as she rested her chin against her hand. “Welcome to the rest of our lives.” 

“Yeah…” He was silent for a while. “Yvraine… Do you have any regrets?” 

“No… Do you?” 

“You deserve a lot better than me.”    
  


“Why do you think that?” 

“I feel like I don’t love you enough.” His eyes hit the grass below. “We just don’t have the same spark we had when we first got together. It’s not that I don’t love you- I’m just afraid we’re not soulmates, you know?” 

“Gulliman. You have given me more love than anyone else ever has. Even if I do find someone who loves me more than you do, I’ll still want to be with you. Because you’re my rock. You’re loyal, you’re kind and forgiving. Who cares if you’re not my soulmate? You’re the rest of the package. And that’s as good as it’s ever going to get, I think.” 

He cracked a small smile. “Thanks… That means a lot to me. And if you want, you can- you know…” 

She furrowed her brow. “You know what?” 

“See other people to fill in the gaps.” 

The eldar laughed. “I mean, monogamy is a little overrated. I think we’re both past the jealousy stage anyways.” 

Gulliman amicably looked into Yvraine's eyes and smiled. "Don't worry." He gently clasped her two delicate hands. "I'm sure that eventually, each of us will find ourselves the perfect woman to have an affair with." 

The two burst out into laughter. 

Yvraine looked deeply into his eyes. “I’m glad things turned out the way they did. This is the happiest I’ve been in millenia.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Konrad Curze was hiding under the buffet table, when he smelled blood. Quickly, he skittered off to the source of the delicious smell. Then, he popped up on the other side of the table like a prairie dog. Shit. He didn’t make it in time. The blood pudding tray was empty. He noticed a Sister of Silence next to the table was eating a cup of the pudding. As he eyed it, his pupils expanded like a cat about to do something really fucking stupid. 

“Hmm?” The raven-haired woman looked over at Konrad. “You want the rest of my pudding?” 

“Yes.” 

She handed the pudding cup to him. “Here.” 

Konrad seemed baffled. “Why would you give your pudding to a total stranger?” 

The young witch hunter shrugged. “I dunno. You just looked like you wanted it more than I did.” 

“I am forever grateful.” He snatched the pudding cup and then ran back under the table, past the legs of a woman with cat ears. 

Galatea grabbed a cup of milk pudding. 

“There you are!” 

Galatea turned around. “Magdalene! It’s been too long!” She hugged the tech priest. 

Rogal stood next to his partner, wearing a tux with a garishly golden bowtie. “Ah, is this your friend, Galatea?” 

Magdalene nodded. “Yeah. She’s my friend that I’m always playing Half-Life 3 with.” They looked over at the picturesque catgirl. “Hey, did you bring Bo with you?”    
  


Galatea smiled. “Yeah. I brought him as my plus-one. He’s the groom’s brother, so he might as well come and say hi.” 

“Bo?” Dorn asked with a modicum of concern. 

“Yeah. My boyfriend, Perturabo.” Galatea explained. “You know.” 

He frowned. “I… Did not know.” 

Perturabo walked up to Galatea and passionately kissed her. Then put her down. He frowned as he noticed his arch nemesis- Rogal Dorn. “Rogal…” 

“Perturabo…” 

The DJ spoke up after the generic 42nd millennium pop song stopped playing. “Alright. I can see there’s a really tense moment right now. So how about another slow dance song?” Lady in Red by Chris De Burgh started playing. 

And then, they started beating the shit out of each other. It was hard to say who threw the first punch. But whatever the case, the dance floor had turned into their battleground. 

Magnus was at the edge of the dancefloor, talking to Beowulf. “Damn, it’s been years since I’ve been to a wedding.” 

Beowulf chuckled. “Really? I go to these things all the time. Fenrisian weddings especially. They sure know how to make a good cake. You should’ve come to Lupa’s wedding. I had a really fun time.” 

The warlock frowned. “Ehh, Leman is there. And he’s- A bit much sometimes.” 

Leman Russ suddenly appeared. “What was that now?” 

“I said you’re a bit too much”, Magnus groaned. 

“Speaking of which, I came here to beat the snot outta ya.” His breath reeked of Fenrisian ale, which caused his much taller brother’s nose to scrunch up. 

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Why???” 

“Because Perturabo and Rogal are doing it too, and I don’t want to feel left out!” He suddenly threw a punch at Magnus and the two started fighting on the dance floor as well. 

Gulliman and Yvraine just watched from their table, dumbfounded. 

“And now I love weddings?” Yvraine said with a chuckle. 

Gulliman buried his face in his hands and sighed. “My family is a fucking nightmare.” 

“But it’s better than no family at all.” Yvraine looked over at her husband. “Hey, if it isn’t too much trouble, could you get me a cup of fondue please?” 

“Why… Would you want a cup of fondue?” 

“Gulliman. I am pregnant. Don’t question it.” She said in a hushed whisper

“Alright. Alright. I’ll get the fondue.” Gulliman got up. He walked past Dorn and Perturabo who were shouting deep and esoteric insults at one another, and just shook his head. Cato and Lupa were slow dancing a few feet away. While Magnus and Leman were ripping into each other like rabid wolves. 

“LADY IN RED, IS DANCINGGGGG WITH MEEEEEEE. CHEEK TO CHEEK.” Cato sang along in his high falsetto, completely out of sync with the song. Lupa lovingly gazed up at him, wondering how she ever got so lucky to have a husband like him. 

Gulliman got a paper cup and put it under the endless stream of melted cheese. Suddenly, he saw a twinkle out of the corner of his eye and looked up at the sky. 

“SKREE!” A bizarre creature shrieked as it flew down, a man jumping off of it. That man was none other than Jaghatai Khan. “I got your invitation.” 

Gulliman nervously smiled. “Yeah? I’m glad it got to you safely.” 

The Khan frowned, his entire demeanor suddenly changing. “So. You married an eldar?” 

“Yeah. Funny story actually, I-” 

Jaghatai grabbed his blonde bitch of a brother by the neck before he could finish his sentence. “WHAT THE FUCK GULLIMAN!?” He dunked Roboute’s head in the fondue fountain and proceeded to waterboard him. “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID OR SOMETHING!? HOLY SHIT!” 

“Blllupppppppyessssbloooppppbloop” Gulliman tried to say, but his mouth was filled with scorching hot cheese. 

“Jaghatai! It’s been forever!” Cygnus said as she casually walked up to the fountain, downplaying the situation. 

Jaghatai gave Gulliman a few seconds to breathe before dunking his head back in the fountain, only for him to scream under the cheese. The Khan smiled. “Sorry, do I know you?” 

“Maybe having a dance with me will jog your memory?” She offered her hand. Jagahtai took it and let his brother go. 

“Oh thank god” Gulliman exhaled as he collapsed on the hard turf, panting and coughing up hot fondue. 

Cygnus held both of Jaghatai’s hands as the song ended, the two of them looking deeply into each other’s eyes, sensing familiarity within one another. The DJ looked over to the nearby stage. “Okay so now Belisarius Cawl set up some karaoke I guess? He’s going first.”

Cawl drunkenly scuttled onstage. “Okay meatbags, I- *hic* I’m doing Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper. DJ HIT IT!” 

The instrumentals started to play. 

_ “LYING IN MY BED- I uhhh- HEAR THE CLOCK TICK AND THINK OF YOU. CAUGHT UP IN *hic* 01100011 01101001 01110010 01100011 01101100 01100101 01110011 00101100 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101110 01100110 01110101 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 is nothing new Flashback, waaaaaarm nights-”  _

Cygnus and her brother started slow dancing. She looked up to the taller man. “You recognize me, right?” 

“IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS, YOU FURRY FUCK!” Magnus shouted as he pinned down Leman just a few feet away. 

“I think I do?” The Khan stared intensely at her. “What’s your name again?” 

_ “Sometimes you picture me I'm walking too far ahead You're calling--- / -- . --..-- / .. / -.-. .- -. .----. - / .... . .- .-. / .-- .... .- - / -.-- --- ..- .----. ...- . / ... .- .. -.. / - .... . -. / -.-- --- ..- / ... .- -.-- --..-- / .-..-. --. --- / ... .-.. --- .-- .-..-. / .- -. -.. / .. / ..-. .- .-.. .-.. / -... . .... .. -. -.. THE SECOND HAND UNWINDS”  _

Yvraine walked over to Gulliman and helped him up. “Hey, sorry your brother’s an asshole.” 

“He has a good heart.” He looked over at Jaghatai, who held Cygnus gently in his arms. The blue-armored slice of white bread’s lip quivered. 

Yvraine gently held his cheese-covered cheek. “Hey, let’s get you cleaned up before you make a giant scene.” 

“Okay…” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Konrad Curze was once again hungry, and on the prowl for food. Since there were no feral cats running around, he went under the buffet table. After smelling some pizza, he decided to grab a slice. He stuck his hand out from under the table and grabbed a slice of pizza, but instead of his hand hitting a pizza, it hit someone’s hand. He hissed as he popped his head out from under the table, and saw the woman from before. “Oh. It’s you.” He jerked his hand away. 

“Konrad, isn’t it?” The black-haired woman asked. “Charmed.” Her lips, which were covered in matte-black lipstick formed into a smug smile. “I know it’s weird to see a girl like me eating pizza. But I’m not like the other girls, okay? I eat pizza.” 

He blankly stared at her, not understanding what the fuck she was talking about. “I eat rats.” 

She seemed pleasantly surprised. “Whoa, that is like- So hardcore. Are you like- An artist or something?” 

“Yes. I make a lot of art in my free time. It’s one of my many hobbies.” 

“Wow. That is so cool. Like, I also draw a lot. Not unicorns and rainbows and shit like those other preppy Sisters of Silence. I like to draw anime and monsters. And also like, pictures of gore and bones. It’s really hardcore. I’m not like the other girls.” 

Curze grabbed a slice of pizza. “I make art with body parts.” 

“Whoa! Now that I’d like to see!”    
  
He was pleasantly surprised, to say the least. Not many people, especially women, wanted to see his sculptures. “I- Could show you if you’d like.” 

“Hell yeah!”    
  
The two ran off to the inside of the palace. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Fulgrim was busy stuffing his face at the buffet, in his regular human form of course. Gulliman had told him to keep a low profile at this event, which was absolutely excruciating for the former Slaaneshi prince. He turned his head as he saw a familiar face out of the corner of his eye. 

“Hey.” A middle-aged woman said. She seemed quite plain and insignificant, but Fulgrim knew exactly who she was. This was Seshat’s human form. Although she never told him much about her past, he knew that was the face she had when she was alive. Millenia before she had the head of a chicken. 

  
“Hey… What are you doing here?”    
  
“I just wanted to congratulate your brother on his marriage. And admittedly, I wanted to check up on you.”    
  


He gently smiled. Small gestures like that always made his day better. “I’m doing good… Although, I’ve been missing your company as of late.” 

The greater daemon took his hand. “As have I.” 

“Yeah…” He looked around. “Hey, let’s ditch this place and fuck the shit out of each other.” 

“Okay.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seshat lay down in Fulgrim’s bed, still fully-clothed. Finally, the two were alone. There was something so intimate about having sex with someone you loved, rather than some random stranger. Every tender touch, every little kiss, twitch, and moan, felt much more intense, even though it was a feeling he had felt countless times before. Is this what people meant when they talked about ‘making love’ rather than just ‘having sex’?” 

A soft moan escaped from the daemon’s lips as Fulgrim ever so tenderly nibbled on her earlobe, hands caressing the daemon's sides. Slowly, he trailed his lips down her neck, passionately sucking on her collarbone on shoulders like a starving lammergeier who was desperate to suck every last bit of marrow from an old, cracked bone. 

"Fulgrim... I want you to fuck the shit out of me." 

"Okay." He said sexily. 

And then he fucked the shit out of her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After having epic freaky milf sex, the two of them lay on opposite sides of the bed, not touching. 

After a few minutes, Seshat finally spoke up. “Fulgrim, do you still love me?” 

“Of course I do, Seshat…” 

“Then why won’t you take me back?” 

“Because I need to focus on my brothers. They’re hurting, and I want to do everything in my power to make things right again.” 

The Tzeentchian daemon sighed. “So you’re just going to sacrifice everything for their happiness? Is that the only reason you left?”

“I-” He took a long drag of his cigarette. “I don’t like the person I am. Or really have ever been. I’ve spent my whole life putting myself first, and now I’m living in the ashes of the fire I’ve made. Like someone who had a gender reveal party during a drought.” 

“We can be broken together though.” 

“No…” He sat up. “I’ll just end up breaking you beyond repair.” 

Seshat sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “I should go.” 

“Yeah…” 

The chicken daemon put her dress back on and headed out. 

“Seshat?” 

“Yeah?” She turned around. 

“Don’t wait for me to change. Because truthfully, I don’t think I ever will.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Konrad led the mystery woman to his room. As he opened the door, a blast of miasmic air hit their faces, causing her to recoil slightly. The Night Haunter grinned. “Welcome to the art room.” He shut the door behind him and led the way. “This one is called “the hand”.” He pointed to a sculpture in the corner, roach-covered walls serving as a backdrop. This one, a hand made out of human feet. 

  
“Neat. I appreciate the ironic undertones.” 

He pointed to another nearby sculpture. “I call this one “the spider””. He pointed to two human corpses sewn together with their limbs arched and touching the ground.    
  


“Spiders are nice.” She was a bit weirded out. “You know, unlike the other girls, I really like spiders. I think they’re cool.”

Konrad frowned. "You know, implying you're not 'like the other girls' implies that the majority of women are vapid strumpets without a modicum of personality. Which is mostly due to a cycle perpetuated by male artists not understanding women, and using their female characters as a living canvas for their sexism and grievances against women as a whole. Causing other people to feel the same way. Implying you're not like other girls implies that women with rich personalities and personal lives are an exception to the rule rather than the norm. Based on my experiences stalking and torturing people, I can tell you that women are equally as shitty as men, and I find it odd that most people assume otherwise." Konrad chided as he plucked a cockroach off the walls and munched on it.

She looked away, embarrassed. “Oh… I guess you have a point there.” 

“Yeah.” He blinked. “Wanna cockroach? I don’t mind if you eat a few.” 

“Oh. No thanks.” 

Konrad continued showing her around, until he had nothing else of interest to show her. “And that’s my room.” 

“Thank you for showing me.” She smiled up at him. “I have something to do. But would you like to… Hang out sometime?” 

“Hang out?” The Night Haunter thought for a moment. “I would like that very much.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Using a wet washcloth, Yvraine wiped the last of the fondue off Roboute’s cheek. “I think I got it.” 

“Thank you”, he sighed. “I’m sorry I roped you into this, Yvraine.” 

The Ynari frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I’m sorry for knocking you up, and making you be around my weird, dysfunctional family. And all the other shitty things you’ve had to go through for knowing me.” 

“This was my choice too. I would’ve just had an abortion without a second thought if I didn’t want to do all this. I knew what I was getting into, Gulliman. And I don’t regret my choices.” She paused. “Do you?” 

“Of course I don’t have any regrets about this. I’m the one who chose this path in life, even though I didn’t want to.” 

“And why did you choose it?” 

“Because who else would? Let’s be honest, Yvraine. There’s two types of leaders. There’s power-hungry sociopaths who are only in it for an ego-trip. And then there’s people like you and me who sacrifice everything we’ve ever wanted in life to be there for others. We don’t want to be leaders. But what other sane person would?” 

“Implying either of us are sane.” 

Gulliman smirked. “Yeah… Yvraine, what would you rather be doing?” 

“Nothing else. But I know that you don’t think that. You want to live a plain, insignificant life. As a farmer in some small agricultural world. You’d rather feel the warmth of the sun on your bare back as you labor in the fields during the day. Then come home to your loving wife and children in the evening. They’re humans just like you, and there’s certainly nothing special about them. But you love each and every one of them unconditionally. You have the innate desire to step up and be the leader, but you don’t want to be some hiveworld politician. You just want to be the head of the household in a milquetoast, insignificant nuclear family. Until you eventually die of old age, lost to history.” 

“You know me so well. I hope I get to know you as well as you know me one day.” 

“Maybe someday.” 

“I love you, Yvraine. I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.” 

“You tell me through your actions alone. And that’s all I need.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	30. Konrad Sees the Psychiatrist

“Thank you for joining me here.” 

It had been a month since Konrad Curze hung out with the strange goth girl Sister of Silence, and he thought about her quite a bit. The other day, he had received an invitation to hang out, and he eagerly, but cautiously accepted it. “Yes. I had been awaiting this for quite some time now.” He said as he walked through the palace’s rose gardens. It was nighttime now, and the fireflies were dancing throughout the foliage, lighting the dim garden. 

“I thought you’d have an idea. Although, maybe we could go back to your room and make some art together.” 

“I suppose. I would like to show you some of my new sculptures.”

They walked over to his room, both keeping an awkward distance from one another. Once they went inside, Konrad led her to a strange sculpture he made. A sculpture of a woman, woven entirely out of human hair. “I read in a book that some ancient cultures wove dolls out of grass and plant matter. So I made one out of human hair.”    
  


She nodded, impressed. “That’s some twisted shit. Where’d you get the hair from?” 

I broke into my brother’s rooms while they were sleeping and plucked the hair from their hair brushes.” 

“Nice.” She grabbed the messenger bag that was strapped to her shoulders. “Want to see some of my poetry?“

“Sure.” 

The Sister of Silence grabbed a notebook and flipped to a page.

“Thing of the night. By Regina.” 

_ “You were _

_ A goth thirtysomething, at a Rammstein concert, _

_ with shaved eyebrows, _

_ and my heart was a cigarette _

_ you found on the ground. _

_ You vomited black vile all over _

_ my open veins _

_ as I laid on the surgery table, _

_ and all the archdevils of hell came _

_ when you did _

_ to tell me you were their brightest. _

_ You were _

_ the key, that unlocked my spiky black heart _

_ but you weren’t, _

_ you were just _

_ a bobby pin _

_ in the hands of a video game protagonist. _

_ My heart, like a black rose _

_ Closed _

_ When your ashes fertilized it, _

_ but any fruit it will bear _

_ will be dead before it can be tasted.”  _

“Interesting. I like how it doesn’t rhyme at all.” 

She laughed. “Yeah. Rhyming is for conformists.” 

“Was that poem about anyone in particular...Regina?” 

“Yes. Regina is my name. And no, not anyone in particular.” She frowned. “I’ve given up on being loved. It’s basically impossible for anyone to love me. Being a psychic blank and all.” 

“Yeah. I know that feeling. Not because I’m a psychic blank or anything- just because my presence typically scares people, and because I don’t like being around people in general. 

“Yeah. Not even my parents like me. My mom never stopped having postpartum depression after having me. My real dad left me and my mom as a baby, because he hated being around someone who filled him with such discomfort and irrational hatred. And then my mom eventually had a baby with my stepdad, and they gave her all their time attention. And he beat me daily.” 

Konrad nodded. “Your stepdad beat you?” 

Regina looked away. “Yeah.” 

There was a blank look on his face. “What’s his address?” 

She furrowed her brow. “Why?” 

“Because I’m going to find him, and kill him by beating him to death.”

“Wow. That’s some twisted shit.” She blushed. “You’d really go all the way to my home planet, just to kill my stepdad?” 

“Yeah.” 

She reached out to hug him, but stopped when he hissed. “Oh. Sorry.” 

“Don’t touch me!” He seemed visibly uncomfortable. 

“I respect that.” 

He awkwardly paused for a moment, shaking a little. 

She got up. “Should I go?” 

“No… Stay.” 

Regina sat back down and flipped through her notebook. “Here’s a drawing of a bat that I made.” She showed him a drawing made in pencil, of a vampire bat with six eyes on its head. 

He sharply exhaled. “That’s a very good drawing.” 

“I’m sorry, am I making you anxious?” 

“I don’t get anxious, Regina. I  _ remain  _ anxious.” 

“I mean more than the usual.”    
  


“Oh yeah, definitely. Your presence is making me incredibly uneasy right now.” 

She frowned. “Sorry.” 

“No… You are not at fault. I’m this way around others as well.” 

“Maybe you should see a psychiatrist?” 

“Psychiatry is the easy way out!” He hissed. “Why would I want to take pills that would make my life easier!?” 

“Konrad, I’m no psyker, but even I can feel how distressed you are right now. Do you really think you can function at full capacity when you’re this anxious?” 

“Yes! And I have been for the past few thousand years! I think I’m managing just fine!” 

She thought for a moment. “How about this. You go to a psychiatrist, and you tell them just how much you hate them. Tell them how psychiatry is terrible, and how they’re a terrible person.” 

“Good idea. And then once they hear my judgment, I’ll kill them and eat them!” 

Regina smiled. “Good thinking.” 

He exhaled out his nose again, sending out a plume of hot breath that smelled like a dead animal. “It’s weird- I’ve been around you for over an hour now, and I haven’t hallucinated once.” 

“You hallucinate?” 

“All the time.” 

“If you’re not doing it around me, then it’s probably psychic.” 

“It is.” He sighed once again. “And now that my mind is clearer, I don’t know what to do with myself.” 

“It’s the anxiety. Your brain doesn’t know what to do, now that you’re more grounded in reality.” 

“Yeah... “ 

“You’d be able to make a lot more art, and torture a lot more people if you weren’t so anxious.” 

“You’re right…” He got up. “Thank you. I should probably look for a psychiatrist now so I can beat the shit out of them.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. Want me to give me the number of my psychiatrist?” 

“No thanks. I’m good.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus gently kissed Beowulf on the cheek, as the Fenrisian was reading a book. “Need anything while I’m out?” 

“Nope. I’m good.” 

“Alright. See you in a couple hours.” Magnus teleported away. 

Beowulf went back to his book and quietly hummed to himself. 

Konrad Curze suddenly kicked down the door and grabbed Beowulf by the neck. “I NEED PSYCHIATRIC HELP RIGHT NOW!” 

Beowulf gagged. “I'M GLAD YOU’RE ADMITTING THE FACT THAT YOU NEED HELP, BUT I AM NOT CURRENTLY QUALIFIED TO BE A PSYCHIATRIST!”

Konrad violently shook him. “CAN YOU GIVE ME PSYCHIATRIC HELP ANYWAYS!?”

“Yes!” The blonde wheezed. “If you put me down, I will gladly get you help!”    
  


The Night Haunter let him go. 

Beowulf took a few moments to regain his composure, then pulled up a chair. “Okay. Sit on the beanbag across from me please.” 

Konrad sat down on the beanbag. 

“You’re Magnus’s brother, Konrad, correct?” 

“Correct.” 

“And why have you come here today?” He pulled a clipboard out of seemingly nowhere. 

“To tell you why you’re being a real dipshit right now, thinking you can just give people drugs to solve all their problems.” 

“Possibly… A psychopath.” Beowulf quietly whispered to himself as he wrote something down with a pen.” 

“I AM A PSYCHOPATH! I TOOK THAT PERSONALITY QUIZ, AND IT ONLY SAID MAYBE!” 

The Fenrisian nodded. “Alright. Alright. Tell me how you feel right now. I can feel some sort of psychic presence emanating from you right now. Is it a transmission of sorts?” 

“I’m getting a vision of your death.” 

“Okay.” Beowulf seemed a bit disturbed. “And tell me, what is that like?” 

“Magnus is holding your hand, and kneeling at your bedside. You seem happy, but also sad at the same time.” 

“I could see myself dying that way, yes. It sounds like a clairvoyant psychic transmission. Do you get these visions a lot?” 

“When I meet someone, I often see how they die. All I can see is death. Constant images of death and violence.” 

He wrote down another thing. “And how does that make you feel? Sad? Anxious?” 

“Anxious.” 

“Okay. Do you hallucinate when you feel anxious?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay... “ He wrote that down on his clipboard. “That sounds to me like psychosis.” 

“Psychosis?” 

“Yes.” Beowulf’s tone and demeanor were kind and patient. “Sometimes when people get anxious, they see and hear things that aren’t there. Does that sound like you?” 

“Yes.” 

He nodded. “You’re being very good for me, Konrad. We’re almost done, I think.” 

“Do you think this is cute? You think this is funny? Analyzing my mind so you can see my thoughts and use them to control me?” 

“I don’t think that at all.” He wrote something down. “Do you ever feel depressed?” 

“Quite a bit, yes.” 

“Tell me more about that.” 

“Sometimes I just- get sad.” 

“Okay…” He set his clipboard down. “Let me write you a prescription for some antipsychotic and anti-anxiety meds.” 

“Okay.” 

Beowulf scribbled down something in an incomprehensible and archaic language. Then he handed the piece of paper to the Night Haunter. “Take this to your local pharmacy and follow the directions.” 

“Will this be covered by my insurance?” 

“No. But don’t worry. You’re so frightening to most people, that they won’t care about you paying. They’ll just want you to get the hell out so you don’t scare off the rest of their customers.” 

“Alright then.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fulgrim hadn’t seen Konrad in two days. Of course, it was normal for him to go missing for days on end. But it still worried him. It was nighttime now, and he decided it would be a good idea to pay the Night Haunter a visit. He knocked on Konrad’s door. 

The door to the dark room slowly creaked open. 

“Konrad? You there? I was wondering if you’d like to play a game tonight? Or maybe we could watch the Billy Jigsaw series together?” 

“A movie....?” The Night Haunter’s voice echoed. Suddenly, he jumped off the ceiling and appeared in front of Fulgrim. “I will watch Billy Jigsaw with you.” 

Fulgrim gently smiled. “Would you like to play a game afterwards?” 

“Sure.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two went to the living room, and Fulgrim popped in the ancient VHS tape and they both sat down in front of the TV. “So, what have you been up to lately?” 

“The usual.” 

“I heard you robbed a pharmacy. Get anything for me?” He smirked. 

“I’m on medication now.” Konrad stuck his filthy hands into the bowl of popcorn sitting between the two brothers. 

“I’m glad to hear that. Mental health is important.” Without thinking, Fulgrim stuck his hand in the bowl as well, his finger brushed against the top of the Night Haunter’s hand. “Oh, sorry.” 

Konrad flinched, but didn’t seem as worked-up over it as usual. 

Fulgrim gently smiled upon that realization, but didn’t verbally acknowledge it. “Have you ever seen this movie before?” 

“No…” Konrad was intently watching. He seemed less tense than usual, although Fulgrim could still sense some anxiety with him. “Thank you for showing this movie to me. This is a fantastic point of reference for my future endeavors.” 

“Yeah. After this, we should totally watch the Cube series.” 

The two sat in silence for hours, watching the cheesy horror movie series. Until Fulgrim stretched out and yawned. “Hey, It’s really late out, and I think I might fall asleep. Promise me you won’t kill me in my sleep?” 

“Sure.” 

“Thanks…” His serpentine body coiled up, and he looked away nostalgically. “I remember when Ferrus and I used to watch movies. One of us would fall asleep, and then we’d cuddle on the couch.” 

“I’m not Ferrus.” 

“I know you’re not.” He sighed. “And that’s okay. You’re still my brother though. We might be complete opposites, but I still love you very much. And I want you to always remember that.” 

“Okay…” 

A few minutes later, Fulgrim fell asleep. Konrad paid no mind to it, and watched the last few minutes of the movie. Then as the credits began to roll, he looked over at his sleeping brother. Truthfully, he envied Fulgrim. He had watched him in his sleep many times before the Horus Heresy. And truthfully, he envied him. He wished he could sleep uninterrupted, unafraid of being suddenly jostled awake by some maniac, or being awoken by a terrible nightmare. 

“Slaanesh…”, Fulgrim mumbled in his sleep, twitching a little. “No… Don’t…” He jostled around uncomfortably, a fearful grimace on his sleeping face. 

For the first time in quite a while, Konrad felt a twinge of empathy for his brother. He felt… Protective. And he finally acknowledged something. While protection was Konrad’s love language, touch was Fulgrim’s. And so cautiously, he placed his hand on Fulgrim’s. Not knowing what exactly to do, he gave it a gentle squeeze. A few moments later, the serpentine Primarch unclenched his muscles and smiled. 

Feeling like he had made a small difference, Konrad got up, and disappeared into the night. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ 4 days later…. _

Regina was laying down on her bed, listening to music. 

_ What happened to my medicine? _

_ The stuff I take to keep my hair _

_ It's obvious you stole it and you sold it on the street _

_ 'Cause you don't even care if I lose my hair _

_ Okay, I found my medicine _

_ I'm sorry that I yelled at you _

_ But let this be a lesson, if you ever steal my medicine _

_ That's what I'll do _

_ I'll yell at you _

_ As your father I expressly forbid it _

_ As your father I expressly forbid it _

_ As your father I expressly forbid it _

_ I'm your dad, I'm your dad _

The Sister of Silence clenched her fist. “Yeah. This music is so cool and alternative.”

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. She turned her CD player off. “Come in.” She sat up.

Konrad Curze walked in, covered in blood and smelling like death. Tied around his belt was someone’s scalp. “I killed your father.” 

Regina squinted. “I wanted you to kill my step-father actually.” 

He frowned. “Oh.” 

“But don’t worry! My real dad was a total piece of shit too!” 

“Yeah.” The Night Haunter looked around. “Nice band posters.”    
  


“Did you see the skull on my desk?” She pointed to a human skull sitting on her desk. 

“Neat. Where’d you get it?” 

“Some chick from Catachan.” 

“Oh. You killed her yourself?” 

“No. She took a cyanide pill to avoid being interrogated.” 

“That’s how they get you.” 

Regina gently smiled. “By the way, you seem a lot less anxious than last time I saw you.” She patted the empty space on her bed, gesturing for him to sit down next to her. 

He did just that. “I saw a psychiatrist. He gave me some pills.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

He frowned. “I just- Do you ever feel like you don’t deserve to feel better?” 

“All the time.” She shook her head. “But it’s great that you’re getting the help you need.” 

“And what if I don’t need it?” 

“You were an anxious mess last time I saw you. Regardless of whether or not you deserve it, you definitely need it.” 

“Anyways, do you have any new poetry to show me?”, he sighed. 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Regina pulled out her notebook and began to read. 

_ “It was a dark and stormy night.  _

_ I was wearing a black corset _

_ With matching lace around it _

_ And a black, leather miniskirt _

_ Pink fishnets, and black combat boots _

_ Black lipstick, white foundation _

_ Black eyeliner, and red eyeshadow _

_ As I nodded off, I heard a tapping on my door _

_ Tis the wind and nothing more _

_ “I'm like a lawyer with the way i'm always trying to get you off” by Fallout Boy was playing _ _   
_ _ Then suddenly a crow walked into my room _

_ I said “what brings you here?”  _

_ The corvid uttered back _

_ “Would you be the savior of the broken,  _

_ The beaten, and the damned?”  _

_ And then I realized, that raven _

_ Was a physical manifestation of my heart.”  _

“Was that good?”    
  


“Yeah. I can relate. That happened to my brother and I once.” 

“Your brother is a crow?” 

“Yeah, basically.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Fulgrim walked down the halls of the palace, he walked past Konrad. “Hey, buddy. What have you been up to lately?” 

“The usual”, he replied. 

“Oh.” As he walked past the Night Haunter, he smelled another person. The odor was fresh, unlike the many other miasmic smells that covered his body. Now that he thought about it, he had smelled the same woman on Konrad’s armor a couple times before. Curious, he walked down the halls alongside his brother. “So, meet any girls lately?” 

“A Sister of Silence. Yes.” 

Fulgrim nodded. “And is she your friend?” 

“She’s just an acquaintance of mine.” 

“I see.” Suddenly, Fulgrim felt a twinge of jealousy. He was happy his brother finally had another person to hang out with, but that meant the two wouldn’t be able to hang out together as much. Even Magnus was too busy to hang out much, ever since he got a boyfriend. The thought of it all saddened him. “Well. Good for you.” He slithered off towards his room. 

Once inside, he flopped onto his bed. “Why did I do that!? I’m such an idiot!” He groaned. “Why did I dump my girlfriend to focus on my brother’s mental health, when he seems to be handling it just fine himself!? Think, Fulgrim. Think.” Panicking, he got out his phone, and called his ex. 

Seshat answered after a few rings. “Fulgrim? It’s been a few months. How are you doing?” 

“SESHAT, LETS FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF EACH OTHER!” 

“Oh well I’d like to, but- I’m actually seeing someone else right now. Sorry.” 

“Okay then. How about a weird cuckolding scenario- your new man is into that, right?” 

“No. Sorry.” 

“Shit.” The daemon primarch muttered before hanging up. “Well, I still have Magnus. I can go bother him for attention , right?” 

  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, Konrad got on his ship and made his way towards Regina’s home planet. It would take a couple days to get there. In the meantime, he grabbed a book to occupy himself. 

_ “Ah yes. One of Fulgrim’s books about sewing. This should help with the flesh cloak I’m working on…”  _

Two hours later, Konrad set the book aside, and then sighed. He didn’t feel like starting a new book just yet. So he sighed and stared at the walls. 

_ “Hey buddy!” _ A shadowy figure appeared in front of him. 

“Who are you?” 

_ “I’m your anxiety of course! And I’m here to tell you why you’re a piece of shit!”  _

“For your information, I’m already aware.” He sighed and looked at the clock. Realizing it was about time to take his meds, he pulled his pill box from out of his pocket. 

The shadowy figure looked over his shoulder, grinning. _ “You’re really going to do drugs to solve all your problems, like the lazy fucking coward you are? You really think you deserve to feel better, considering all the horrible shit you’ve done?”  _

He looked at his pill box, his hands trembling. 

_ “You’re trying to suppress me. You think you’re worth a shit without me? Let’s face it, Konrad”, his anxiety laughed. “You and I were made for each other. You know that you’re not shit without your visions. So why don’t you just put the pills down, and keep your senses sharp. You stupid piece of shit.”  _

“...Okay…” The Night Haunter put the box back in his pocket. 

_ “There you go. Looks like you have a clear sense of right and wrong after all.”  _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fulgrim barged into Magnus’s room without warning. 

The cyclops turned around from his beanbag, mildly perturbed. “Ever heard of knocking?” 

“No time for knocking! I haven’t hung out with anyone in two days-” He grabbed Magnus by the large piece of Prosperan jewelry that he was wearing around his neck. “AND I NEED ATTENTION BADLY!” 

“Fulgrim. Please calm down.” Magnus said softly, yet annoyed. “Beowulf and I are playing Eldar Scrolls right now. We can hang out later. But for now, I’d like to be alone with my boyfriend, whom I’m sure also wants alone time with me.” 

“That is correct.” Beowulf replied softly. 

“Then what am I to do!?” Fulgrim dramatically cried out. 

Magnus sighed. “Hold on. Let me ask mom…” He closed his eye for a moment and started talking to her telepathically. “Hmmm….” He opened his eye again. “Do you want to go to the mall with mom?” 

“Yes!?!?!” He said enthusiastically. 

“Okay. Now please leave my room”, Magnus said curtly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, Konrad finally made it to Regina’s home planet. When he stepped off the ship, he felt oddly dizzy. But he just shook it off and assumed it was from sitting down for so long. Carefully, the Night Haunter pulled out a piece of scrap paper from his pocket, and read the address listed on it. Luckily, it was nearby. Running through the shadows of the night without a sound, he made it to the house. Then used his shitty Hugh Jackman claws to climb up the side of the house. Tiptoeing across the roof, he slid down the chimney, and landed on a pile of soot. 

Across the fireplace was a man sitting down on a couch and his wife. “Santa!?” 

The Night Haunter stood up. “No. I killed Santa last year for illegally breaking into people’s houses. I am Konrad Curze, and I am here to seek revenge on behalf of my friend, Regina!” 

The man furrowed his brow. “Regina is your friend? I’m assuming only a horrible person would want to be friends with that piece of shit!” 

“You guessed right! I am a horrible person! But she’s not the piece of shit!” He pointed at the middle-aged man accusingly. “You are!” 

The mother spoke up. “Wouldn’t you agree that you’re a piece of shit as well?” 

“That too!” He sheathed his epic Wolverine claws. “Now Regina wrote down a list of all the ways you two abused her.” He squinted. “It says here… That you shoved a burning candlestick up her ass?” 

“I never did such a thing!” Regina’s stepdad cried out. 

“Oh wait, no. It says she wants me to do that to  _ you _ . Sorry, my vision is a bit blurry now for some reason. My bad.” He grabbed a lit candlestick off the shelf above the fireplace. 

“Oh shit…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Konrad was back in his spaceship, the scalps of both parents tied to his belt. He uncomfortably leaned back in his chair. 

_ “What’s wrong?”  _ His anxiety asked as he suddenly manifested in front of him. 

“Just feeling unwell. That’s all.” 

_ “Hmm… Could it be because you were addicted to those pills?”  _

“What-” 

_ “Yeah!” _ The shadow affirmed with a grin. _ “You’re displaying the early symptoms of drug withdrawal. Which means you’re a shitty drug addict!” _

“Oh shit… You’re right.” 

_ “You’re the thing you swore to destroy! Too bad you can’t kill your own self! You already tried that once, and you were too much of a coward to even do that!”  _

“Yeah. I ended up grabbing a guy from the Alpha Legion at the last minute and told him to shapeshift into me while I grabbed a Sprite.”

_ “Which also means you’re a murderer and a liar!”  _

“Well I already knew that.” 

_ “Doesn’t make it any better!”  _

He sighed. “You’re right. You’re always right…” 

_ “Of course I am! I’m your anxiety- The one part of you that’s always right!”  _   


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, Konrad stumbled back into Regina’s room. 

“Konrad?” She looked up from her magazine, concerned. “You seem really pale.” 

“I’m always pale. Anyways, I killed your parents.” He took the scalps off his belt and held them up for her to see. 

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” She gently smiled and walked up to him. “Would… You maybe want to hold hands with me?” 

Without warning, the Night Haunter suddenly doubled over in pain. Clenching his stomach, he vomited all over the floor, bits and pieces of Regina’s parents and pieces of candle wax spewing onto the carpet below. 

“Oh Throne! Forgive me for even suggesting that!” 

“No…” He dry heaved onto the carpet. “I’m just really nauseous right now.” 

“Your poor tummy… Let me get you some ginger ale.” The goth girl hopped off her bed and went out the door. 

Konrad gazed at his own reflection in the puddle of vomit, damn he looked like shit. Like, even shittier than usual. 

“You did this to yourself. Don’t forget that.” 

Suddenly, he lost all control of his muscles, and all touch of reality. Unable to control his movements, he collapsed onto the ground and started to twitch and convulse, slowly losing consciousness. 

When he finally came to, he felt a warm blanket on top of him. He was in Regina’s bed. “What happened… How long was I out?” 

“You were having a seizure when I finally came back. You were out for about half an hour.” 

“Oh…” 

“Have you ever had a seizure before? Are you epileptic?” 

“No, and no! Neither of those things!” He snapped. 

Regina frowned. “Is something wrong?” 

“I’m fine…”, he lied. 

“Are you not taking your pills?”    
  


“I- Yeah…” 

“You can’t do that!” She scolded. “Look at you! You’re sick, and now I have to clean your vomit!” 

“Or you could just eat it?” 

“I DON’T EAT VOMIT, KONRAD!” She shook her head. “Why did you stop taking your meds?” 

“Look at me! I’m an addict!” 

Regina sighed. “It’s not the same thing, Konrad. Chemically, it’s different. Your body was so used to feeling better, that now it doesn’t want to go back to the way it was. Don’t you feel the same way?”

“I don’t deserve this…” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I don’t deserve nice things!” 

The Sister of Silence looked at him intently. “Then if you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me.” 

Konrad hesitated for a moment. “Okay…” He obliged weakly. With shaky hands, he got his pill box out. 

Regina handed him a glass of ginger ale, and Konrad hesitantly swallowed his pills. “There.” He set the glass down on the nightstand and gazed up at the ceiling with his pitch-black eyes. “I’m sorry…” 

“It’s okay.” She shifted her hand towards him, but stopped. “Can… I hold your hand?” 

“If it will make you feel better.” 

A few moments later, Regina lay down next to him, and gently squeezed his hand. “Thank you.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


A few hours later, Konrad woke up from his nap. He noticed Regina still laying next to him. 

“Hey, feel any better?” 

“Yeah…” Konrad replied a bit weakly. He sat up. 

“Could I ask you a huge favor?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Please take a bath.” 

“Why?” 

Regina frowned. “You need a bath.” 

“No I don’t.” 

“You’re covered in blood and vomit.” 

The primarch frowned. “I’ll wipe it off.” 

“And your hair?” 

“What about it?” 

“It’s greasy.” 

“It always is.” 

The Sister of Silence shook her head. “How can you live like this!?” 

Konrad looked around. “What do you mean? Your room is messier than I am.” 

“That’s different. Look at yourself! You’re filthy! Get in the bath!” 

He furrowed his brow. “No. I do not bathe. I have no need for such pleasantries.” 

“Bathing is not a luxury. It’s a basic need. Now get in.” 

“No.” 

“Konrad! If you don’t bathe, you could get an infection.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“People won’t want to be around you.” 

“Ugh!” She was getting frustrated. “You’re so filthy, that it’s practically a crime!” 

He perked up with concern. “What was that last part?” 

“I said that it’s basically a crime to be this dirty. You’re so dirty that you could spread an illness to an entire city and kill innocent people!” 

“A crime?” Konrad gasped. He sighed. “Fine. Give me a bath.” 

Regina just stood still for a few seconds, surprised that was the thing that convinced him. “Okay. Follow me and I’ll run a bath for you.” She lead him to the bathroom attached to the bedroom, and turned on the bath faucet. “Alright. The towels are in the cabinet above the sink. Need anything else?” 

“Yeah. How does one clean themself?” 

She was flabbergasted. “Have you never taken a bath before?”    
  


“I have not.” 

“Do you need help?” 

“I suppose.” 

“Alright. Get in the bath.” 

Konrad gingerly dipped his foot in the bathwater. 

“What are you doing!?”    
  
“Getting in the bath.” 

She shook her head. “You have to get naked first.” 

He froze, a wild look of fear in his pitch-black eyes. 

“Is that okay?” 

“I suppose.” Cautiously, he started to undress. Regina looked away, doing her best to give the Night Haunter privacy. 

Finally, Konrad stepped into the bath, and put his knees up to his chest. “Okay. You may look now.” 

“Perfect.” Regina got an empty cup off the shelf and filled it with bath water. “I’m going to wash your hair now.” 

“Okay…” 

The Sister of Silence started rinsing his hair. “Your hair is very greasy.” She parted a few strands. “Do you have lice?” 

“Yes.” 

She sighed. “Hold on, let me get the special shampoo.” Gingerly, she took a small bottle of shampoo off the shelf and squirted it into her hand, then gently massaged his scalp. 

As much as Curze didn’t want to admit it, it felt good. Normally, he’d be too skittish to let someone touch him like that, but he was cautiously optimistic. An odd, deep rumbling sound came from inside his throat as he started to relax. 

“Oh, you can purr like a cat?” Regina gently smiled. 

“Umm- No!” He blushed, his pale cheeks showing hints of rose-red. 

“Well, alright.” She got out the shower head, then rinsed off his hair. The bathwater turned grey as she did so. Konrad stared at the dirty bathwater down below, and realized for the first time, just how filthy he was. But no matter how clean he was on the outside, he always knew he’d be absolutely putrid on the inside. Truthfully, he couldn’t fathom why someone like Regina would want to be his friend. Shared interests? Pity? Maybe even… Loneliness. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how lonely Regina really was. Just like him, she had been hurt by those who were supposed to protect him. She knew what it felt like to be absolutely feared and despised by everyone around her. And perhaps because of that, she felt a connection towards him. 

“Let me just get the rest off with a special comb.” Regina pulled out a flea comb and began to delouse him. She ran the comb through his roots and showed him the lice-covered comb. “Wow, I didn’t realize it was this bad.” 

With his long, black giraffe tongue, the Night Haunter licked the bugs off the comb, then swallowed them. The look on Regina’s face was a mix between surprise and disgust. “Well. Okay then.” After finishing, she got out a bottle of body wash. “I’m going to wash your body now. Is that okay?” 

He started to get anxious. “Yeah. That’s fine.” 

“Just tell me if you get too uncomfortable.” She advised before lathering up her hands with the body wash and scrubbing his shoulders, then his back. When she got to his abdomen, he started to freeze up. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Let’s just get this over with.” He sighed, uncomfortably shifting a little. 

“I’ll be quick.” The Sister of Silence started to wash his chest. But once she got down to his abdomen, Konrad flinched, and curled up. 

Regina quickly jerked her hand back. “I’m sorry.” 

“No. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine. It’s natural for men to… Well, it's just a natural reflex, you know. It's not your fault. 

“I promise I won’t try anything funny, I swear." 

The Sister of Silence nodded. “It’s okay, I knew you would never do such a thing.” She looked down. “On another note, you should probably wash that. It looks infected.” 

“I'd rather it be a little sore. Discourages me from using it." 

“You could get really sick and potentially die if it were to get infected. You really need to wash that.” 

“I- Don’t really know how.” 

“You just need to peel back your foreskin and wash it like any other part of your body.” 

He blinked. “What’s a foreskin?” 

“The… Skin on your- ..... You want me to wash it for you?”, Regina sighed. 

“I guess. As long as you don’t try anything funny with me.” 

"I would never." And so, with careful guidance, and constant questions of whether or not she should stop, Regina managed to clean his lower area. Until finally, he said. 

"Alright. That's good enough. Please stop." 

She quickly jerked her hands back. “I’m sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

“No. You didn’t.” That was true, Regina didn’t make him uncomfortable. What made him uncomfortable was the dirty thoughts he had about her. He didn’t want to see anybody that way. Not after the things he had seen on the streets. “I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?” 

"Of course not. I'm happy to help someone I care about. This isn't weird at all", Regina reassured before pulling the plug. “Let me just rinse you off with the showerhead to get the dirty bathwater off of you.” 

“Sure…” 

Regina gently rinsed him with cool water. “There. All done.” She got a towel off the shelf and handed it to him. “There’s a bathrobe on the hook. I’m going to wait for you in the bedroom, and wash your armor. Okay?” 

“Yeah, just-” He took the towel and wrapped it around his waist. “I’m going to go now. I’ll see you later.” 

“Uhh- Okay.” 

Konrad put on the bathrobe and headed out the door without another word. 

_ “He’s really stretching that thing out…” _ Regina thought to herself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After returning to his quarters for the night, Konrad lay down in his bed. He stared at the ceiling, thoughts of guilt swirling around him. Truthfully, there was a part of him that wanted to be more intimate with others. But there was an even bigger part of him that felt absolutely disgusted by it. He didn’t want this- It felt wrong- It felt disgusting and skeevy- But he couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to let go of all his shame, and finally let himself have the touch his body so desperately craved. 

Once again, he started having thoughts of what Regina looked like without any clothes on. - No. He didn’t want to think of anyone that way. It felt disgusting. Why did he keep having these thoughts? 

Finally, he bargained with himself. Maybe all these thoughts would just go away if he just pleasured himself. Cautiously, he touched himself, until the deed was finally done. Then he lay back down, ashamed of himself. 

The Night Haunter stared at the ceiling, leaving himself alone with his thoughts, which only made his guilt and shame intensify. But the deed had finally been done. And Regina’s body no longer occupied his thoughts. He tried to relax. But all he could think of now was how much he hated himself. But it was finally over. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, Fulgrim barged into Magnus’s room. Wearing overpriced sunglasses, and a stupid shirt. “Guess who just went to the mall?” 

Magnus turned around. “You, I assume?” 

“Yeah.” He gently smiled and looked down. “Thank you for everything, Magnus. I know I’m a little much sometimes but- You’re always looking out for me.” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Speaking of which, would you like to come with Mortarion and I to game night tomorrow?” 

“I’d be delighted.” The snake daemon smiled. “I’m glad to have so many brothers.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” 


	31. A New Threat

2 Years have passed since the union between the Primarch, Roboute Gulliman, and the Ynari, Yvraine became official. And although this political marriage had caused quite an uproar in The Imperium, most of the civilians seemed to respect it. They had much bigger worries than miscegenation. There was still so much war, poverty, and sickness- that even they’d be willing to side with the Eldar they were raised to resent, as long as it meant they could finally have the means to survive. And thanks to Yvraine’s leadership, many human worlds got the aid they needed, as well as a newfound appreciation for the Eldar. 

With Slaanesh gone, as well as the birth of an Eldar-human hybrid, the culture of the Ynari rapidly changed. No longer were they consumed by their fears of eternal damnation, now they were grateful for Fulgrim’s contributions- which were of course attributed to The Imperium of Man. In order to stop the Eldar from fucking like rabbits again, the Ecclesiarchy was mostly repurposed to teach the space elves how to do it missionary-style, and how to have loving and godly heteronormative relationships. 

But one thing was still on the minds of the loyalist Primarchs: How were they going to stop The Emperor’s decay, and keep the Golden Throne running? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jaghatai! Wake up!” Fulgrim shook Jaghatai by the shoulders as he lay down on the couch, Cygnus curled up on top of him. 

“Huh- Whuh-” He sat up, causing Cygnus to tumble off the couch and wake up with a yelp. “Shit, what happened last night?” 

“We drank all of Leman’s good wine, remember?” Cygnus groaned as she rubbed her head. 

“You two and Leman have a serious drinking problem”, Fulgrim scolded. 

Cygnus grabbed an empty bottle of wine and shook the last few drops into her mouth. “You’re the one with the problem here.” 

“I have a  _ drug  _ problem. Not an alcohol problem”, the daemon corrected. “I don’t drink. Alcohol is a depressant, which causes me to spiral into a deep state of sadness. Instead, I take a shit ton of stimulants and amphetamines so I can focus and get somewhat of a sense of normalcy, while also hyperfixating on every little thing wrong with me, while doing my makeup and writing an entire novel at 4 am.” He took a bag of coke out of his pocket and did a bump of it. “Geez. Learn the difference, you ignorant fucks.” 

Jaghatai groaned. “What the fuck do you want, Fulgrim?” 

“We need to bring Vulkan back.” 

Cygnus frowned. “He’s dead, dumbass. Now he’s just bits of flesh floating around in space. It’s impossible for him to regenerate now.” 

“But what if his soul is still there, and he just needs a little help?” 

Cygnus looked over at her webway-dwelling brother. “Do you think that could work?” 

“It wouldn’t hurt to try. As much as I despise The Imperium, we still need to keep it running. And since Vulkan is a perpetual like father, he may play a key role in all this.” 

“So are you in?” Fulgrim asked, lending the two a hand. 

“Am I my strap after bringing a girl home from the pub? Because I’m definitely going in.” Cygnus put her hand on Fulgrim’s. 

“I’ll also give it a shot.” Jaghatai put his hand on top of Cygnus’s. “Cygnus? Why are two of your nails cut short, while the other three are long?” 

“Uhh, well-” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Regina stretched and yawned gothically as she woke up in her big bed. Then, she knelt down towards Konrad, who was sleeping at the foot of her bed. “Konrad. Good morning.” 

The Night Haunter slowly opened his pitch-black eyes. “Good morning…” He sat up, then stretched out like a cat. 

Konrad had been sleeping in her bed nearly every night for about two years now. Sure, he was mysterious, emotionally distant, and barely housetrained. But he didn’t kill her in her sleep yet. That was a good sign. Plus, she liked having him around. She felt like he was one of the few people who truly understood her. It was also apparent that he had benefited from her presence as well. Not only did he get a good night’s sleep around her, but he had also started to gain some more weight from his anxiety meds- mostly in the form of muscle. 

“Would you like some breakfast?” She asked. 

“Sure.” He mumbled, still a bit tired. 

Regina dialed a number on her gothic rotary phone. “Hello? Kitchen? Can I get a plate of eggs and bacon for me. And some stale bread crusts, a dozen expired eggs, a frozen rat, some half-eaten toaster tarts, and two cans of wet cat food for my pet cat please?” 

“Why do you always order stale bread crusts for your cat?” The woman on the phone questioned. 

“You wouldn’t understand the aesthetic. Just get us our food please.” 

“Uhh. Alright then.”    
  


Regina hung up and turned back to Konrad. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you something…” 

“Yes?” He sat up. 

Regina twiddled her thumbs. “I’m not sure how to say this- But I’ve been growing rather fond of you.” 

“Oh. That’s no good.” He frowned. 

The goth woman looked away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Now knowing what else to say, Konrad shrugged and jumped off the bed on all fours. Then he picked up an empty can of Monster Girl Energy Drink and started to chew on it. He seemed deep in thought…  _ What could he be planning?  _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe you guys convinced me to do this…” Magnus muttered as he navigated using his acute psychic senses, behind Beowulf, who was piloting. 

Fulgrim furrowed his brow. “Be more optimistic, brother. If there’s a chance of bringing him back, then I’ll take it.” 

Magnus shook his head. “Oh Fulgrim. You’ve changed over these years much more than I have.” 

Cygnus looked up from her issue of “Eyepatches Weekly”. “Here’s a thought.” She smirked. “How do you think he’ll react to Roboute’s baby? Jaghatai about had a heart attack when he first saw her.” 

“Admittedly, I’m still shocked about it all. Anyone would be.” The Khan looked over at Magnus. “Any signs of Vulkan?” 

“As I said before, we’re not quite close to where he was rumored to have died.” The mage closed his eye to focus better. 

“Geez, Magnus.” Cygnus finished her magazine, and picked up an unread copy of “Woman who Love Women who Love Pirating Monthly”. “It’s no wonder you’re so bad at navigating. You only have one eye.” 

“You also have one eye.” 

“Yeah, but I’m a pirate.” 

Magnus groaned. “My siblings are annoying, but not nearly as annoying as my sons.” He thought to himself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tzeentch, you bucket of rancid fried chicken!” Ahriman shouted as he marched up to the Chaos God. “Explain yourself!” 

  
Tzeentch tznickered, knowing exactly why the estranged son of Magnus was so pissed off. “Well. Funny story, my dear Ahzek. You see, when Magnus and his brothers were born, I made a contract with his mother, in exchange for the location of the Primarchs. I promised that I would scatter them away from the Anathema’s grasp, in exchange for 10,000 years of servitude from one of her sons. And well, when Magnus found out that his contract expired long ago, he left.” 

“THAT DOESN’T EXPLAIN WHY YOU MADE J.D. SALINGER YOUR NEW CHAMPION AND NOT ME!” The funky library man snapped. 

“Oh, what’s this? I thought you didn’t want to be a daemon prince? Have you perhaps, changed your mind?” 

He sighed. “After foreseeing every other possibility, I have concluded that the power granted by you will be the only way I can ever achieve my goals.” 

“Well good, the first step is admitting that you were wrong all along!” The chaos god laughed. 

“Great. Now can you please make me a daemon prince so I can find the Black Library and read some mindblowing forbidden knowledge?” 

“Ohohohoho! Eager, aren’t you?” The teeth on his beak twisted into an evil smile. “You’ll have to prove yourself first, my loyal minion.”    
  


“By doing what?” 

“I need you to attack the Ynnari and weaken their forces.” 

“Wouldn’t it be easier if you made me a daemon prince first?“

“Princehood is a reward for only my finest champions. I’m afraid you have not earned that distinct honor yet.” 

“Earn it!? I’ve done way more than J.D. fucking Salinger ever has! What did he do that was so special!?”

“He was indirectly responsible for John Lennon’s death.” 

“Who!?” 

“Hate that fucker”, Tzeentch muttered. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow. This magazine for wine snobs is so boring.” Cygnus barely turned the page. “There’s hardly any words in here.” 

“That’s because it’s a wine  _ catalog _ ”, Jaghatai sighed. 

“Stop!” Magnus suddenly shouted. 

Beowulf hit the brakes of the spaceship. 

“I sense him.” Magnus looked around. “His soul is still lingering amongst the rubble.” 

Fulgrim twiddled his well-manicured thumbs. “And his cells?” 

“I sense them. There’s a few small particles floating around that should be viable enough to culture in agar.” Magnus turned to Fulgrim. “Can you go out and collect them?” 

The serpentine daemon furrowed his brow. “Why me, specifically?” 

“Because you’re long enough to reach out and collect some good samples.” Magnus handed him a jar. 

“Yeah… Alright then…” Fulgrim slithered out the hatch on top, and shut the airlock behind him. Holding his breath, he went out into the vacuum of space. With his keen, genetically engineered eyes designed to sense the smallest of flaws, he saw a miniscule chunk of flesh and closed the jar over it. Then he went back inside the ship and handed it over to Magnus. 

“Perfect.” Using a cotton swab, he collected the cells and put them onto a petri dish. Then he set it in an incubator to grow. “And now we wait.”   


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Konrad? Konrad?” Regina called out into the night. “Konrad, where art thou?” Suddenly, she felt hot breath on her shoulders, and turned around only to find herself face-to-face with the Night Haunter himself. “Regina…” His voice was deep and bestial. Absolutely terrifying to most people, but not Regina. 

The Sister of Silence frowned. “I’m afraid I have some terrible news. I’m being deployed to fight off some psykers. I’ll be gone for quite a while…” 

“Deployed? Where? Why?” 

“An allied Craftworld is under attack by the Prodigal Sons. And the Sisters of Silence are urgently needed to keep their immense psychic powers at bay.” 

“I see…” 

“You’ll be okay, right?” 

“Yeah… I’ll be fine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
It had been six hours since the incubation of Vulkan’s cells began, and the ship’s passengers were beginning to grow restless. Fulgrim and Cygnus painted each other’s nails. Jaghatai was drawing pictures of unicorns in his sketchbook. Beowulf was meditating. And Magnus was in the ship’s laboratory, doing Throne knows what. 

Suddenly, Magnus poked his head out the door to the laboratory. “Does anyone have a tissue?” 

“Damn, are you jerking off in there or something?” Fulgrim asked as he reached in his pocket. 

“No! And I also need a rubber band!” 

Fulgrim handed Cygnus a tissue, while the pirate primarch undid her hair. Then she handed Magnus a rubber band and the tissue. 

“Thank you.” The daemon primarch hurried back inside the laboratory, then came back out about a minute later, with his hands cupped together. “I have a surprise for you all…” He parted his hands, and out popped a three-inch tall man. It was Vulkan. And he was wearing a makeshift tunic made with a tissue and a rubber band. 

“Brothers! It’s been so long!” He said in a very high-pitched voice. 

The other primarchs gathered around the Promethean and greeted him. 

Fulgrim started to bawl dramatically. “Vulkan! I missed you so much! I’m so sorry for everything!” Without thinking, he hugged the tiny man tightly. Then there was a loud pop, followed by a crack. “Uh-oh…” When he let go, Vulkan was bent in half with his face twisted. 

Jaghatai glared judgmentally at Fulgrim. “Nice job, Fulgrim! That’s the second Primarch you’ve killed!” 

A few seconds later, Vulkan’s body started to heal, and then he opened his eyes and stood back up. “Okay, I’m alive now. As I was saying, I’m very happy to see you all again!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“WHERE THE FUCK IS JAGHATAI!?” Leman shouted as he cut his way through swaths of Tzeentchian daemons. 

The White Scar next to him shrugged. “He was on a bender or something.” 

“Well so am I right now! But I’m still fightin’ in this damn war!” Leman complained as he stomped on a daemon’s head. 

One of the White Scars looked around, then back to his gun. “Uhh- We’re supposed to be shooting the Eldar too, right?” 

Leman frowned. “No!? Have you been shooting at the Eldar the entire time!?” 

“Uhh… Yeah?” The White Scar replied. 

One of the Space Wolves seemed confused. “Oh shit. I was shootin’ at ‘em too.” 

“HAVE ALL OF YOU BEEN SHOOTING OUR ALLIES THIS ENTIRE TIME!?” The Primarch shouted. 

“Yeah…” A Guardsman nervously confessed, only to then be shot by a nearby commissar. 

The Fenrisian Primarch facepalmed. “WE ARE FUCKED!” 

Ahriman laughed maniacally from his floating platform. “Oh, this is glorious! Absolutely glorious! You’ve been involved in friendly fire this entire time!?” He shot a blast of psychic energy straight at the Space Marines below. 

Suddenly, an ironclad woman ran straight towards the blast, nullifying the dangerous psychic energy. 

“FUCK!” The cocky son of Magnus shouted as he started to lose his balance. The platform fell down and send him tumbling to the ground. His psychic powers were useless near a Sister of Silence. 

Leman gave the goth chick a thumbs up. “Thanks, Regina.” 

But before anyone could lay as much of a hand on Ahriman, a giant winged daemon picked him up and carried him off into the sky. 

“Dammit! We almost had him!” The White Scar cried out. 

Yvraine popped her head from the crowd a few meters away. “Hey Leman! Tell your fucking pets to stop shooting my soldiers!” 

“Don’t worry! I just did!” He shouted back.

Suddenly, a horde of Iron Warriors came rushing in. “Don’t worry, Ahriman. I have backup!” Perturabo announced as he ran out into the heat of the battlefield.

Their numbers were much more numerous than that of the Thousand Sons or any other army on the battlefield. Somewhere between 12 or a number that could only be expressed in exponents, but would still take forever to pronounce. 

“Oh no! There’s too many of them! At least 13 billion! We need to fall back!” Leman cried out. 

“Really?” Regina squinted. “I only see about 400.” 

Suddenly, Ahriman appeared, riding one of those flying daemon manta ray thingies. “Do you morons not know how to count!?” 

“Do you seriously think any of us went to school!? We were all too busy working in factories and learning religious propaganda, like MEN!” A Guardsman yelled.

“And women.” Regina added. 

“TWELVE THOUSAND! THERE ARE TWELVE THOUSAND IRON WARRIORS! CAN ANYONE IN THIS GALAXY FUCKING COUNT!?” Perturabo screeched. 

“Alright. We get it, Leonardo Davinky. You can count.” Leman shook his head. “Rune Priests! Hold them back!” 

Leman’s Rune Priests came together and formed a psychic barrier that held the Iron Warriors back, while the soldiers of the Imperium and Ynnari came together to regroup. 

Perturabo was furious. “Hey! You fuckers can’t do that! It’s not your Psyker Phase yet!” 

Ahriman facepalmed. “This is real life, not a tabletop game, Perturabo! How many fucking times do I have to tell you this!?” 

But the most pissed off of them all was Leman Russ. “THEY’RE NOT FUCKING PSYKERS, THEYRE RUNE PRIESTS!” The furry shouted as he ran towards his stupid fucking nephew with an axe. 

“I’m flying, dipshit!” Ahriman maniacally cackled as he soared through the air on his stingray thingy, blasting psychic lightning bolts at Leman like he was fucking Palpatine or something. 

Regina looked at the shitshow in horror. She wanted to help Leman, but there was no way she could reach him in time. What was she to do? 

Suddenly, a long, clawed finger tapped her on the shoulder. “Psst.” 

She turned around and gasped. “Konrad!” 

“I have a plan.” 

“What’s that?”, the Sister of Silence piped up. 

“Get on my back. You use your negative psychic presence to mask my own presence. And I’ll find a way to reach Ahriman and kill him to death.” 

“Good idea.” She hopped on the Night Haunter’s back and looked up. Ahriman was in the sky, being a dick as usual. How the hell would Konrad even reach her?

Without warning, Konrad Curze screeched like a banshee as he jumped on a low-flying screamer. With catlike agility, he jumped from screamer to screamer, until Ahriman was within sight. 

Unnerved at the presence of the blank and the primarch, Ahriman commanded his flying stingrays to scatter. With no time to lose, Curze jumped off his screamer as it turned around, leaping towards Ahriman. Unfortunately for him, his calculations had been off by just a few inches, and he was sent tumbling to the hard ground below. As he prepared for the worst, he felt someone grab his hand. When he opened his eyes, he saw his goth brother holding him up in the sky. 

His jet-black eyes widened in surprise. “Corvus?” 

“I couldn’t let a fellow goth plunge to their doom. That would violate the Goth Code.” Gently, he placed Konrad and Regina under his arm and jetpacked after Ahriman. 

“You know of the Goth Code, brother?” 

“I was there when it was written. An oath forged in the fires of blood and edginess at the  _ Hottus Toppicus _ at the Imperial Mall.” 

For a second, Konrad was reassured by the common ground he had with Corvus. But then he remembered that Corvus is a fucking poser and he hates him. 

“Get ready.” As soon as Corvus finally caught up to Ahriman, he yeeted Konrad towards the Prodigal Son. Reacting quickly, the Night Haunter drop kicked Ahriman as Regina jumped off his back and punched the psyker right in the face. 

“YOU FOOL! YOU HAVE STARTED A BLOOD FEUD BETWEEN THE GOTHS AND THE NERDS!” Ahriman screeched as he fell to the ground. 

“Lucky for us jocks, we don’t have to worry about that.” Leman said with a shit-eating grin as he stomped on Ahriman’s chest. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA YOU ALL WILL RUE THE DAY! RETREAT!” Ahriman shouted before teleporting himself back into the Warp.” 

With everyone now safely on the ground, Konrad looked towards his goth brother. “I never thought I’d say this. But thank you, Corvus.” He furrowed his brow. “Now get the fuck out of my sight, you fucking poser.” 

“Okay, emo.” And with that, the Raven Lord jetpacked away.

Regina looked back at Konrad. “Hey… I was thinking…” 

“Yes?” 

“We’re good friends. We sleep in the same bed and spend a lot of time together. Do… You have feelings for me?” 

The Night Haunter paused for a moment, not sure how to answer that question. “I’m not sure.” 

“Well…” Regina looked to the side. “Would you like to go out with me and see where this goes?”    
  


“I would not be opposed to that.” 

She put down her metal mask and gently smiled at him. “Can I kiss you?” 

“On the hand.” Konrad hesitantly said as he held out his hand. 

“I’ll wait until you’re more comfortable with that.” 

“Okay.” Konrad made no visible acknowledgement of it, but he was slightly relieved to hear that. He was glad to be around someone who cared for his comfort. 

“What now?” 

“Let’s scalp the corpses of our enemies and make a teddy bear out of them.” 

“I’d like that very much, Konrad.” 


End file.
